


Those city lights, love at first sight (And I’m thinking about how much I need you)

by planetsandstars



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Band Break Up, Break Up, Falling In Love, Getting Back Together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-15
Updated: 2016-07-15
Packaged: 2018-07-15 08:29:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 47,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7215091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/planetsandstars/pseuds/planetsandstars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>5 years after Harry leaves the band he and Louis reconnect at Liam’s wedding where old, buried feelings don’t seem so old or buried anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Those city lights, love at first sight (And I’m thinking about how much I need you)

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from 'You're Not The One'- Sky Ferreira
> 
> I started writing this before Harry cut his hair so when it refers to it being 'shorter' I wasn't thinking of it being that short. (You can obviously think of it however you want to though) :)

 

_And I really want to know if it's alright_

_Cause it's getting really hard to tell_

_I know I like to get it wrong from time to time_

_But I think we're getting on so well_

Alright- The Magic Gang

 

*********

 

_After 4 incredible years with the band we have to announce that Harry has made the decision to leave. We’re going to carry on without him and we want to wish Harry all the best in whatever he decides to do. We want to make clear that this is not the end of One Direction and that you guys are the best fans we could possible ask for. We understand this is hard for everyone but the tour will continue as planned, thanks for sticking with us throughout everything. Louis, Liam, Zayn and Niall x_

**May**

 

He gets the invite and thinks, before anything else, if it’s fake, if this is just another stunt he has to go through because album sales are dropping and they might not be as relevant as they were when their second album was released. Harry reads it through again and kicks himself for being stupid. Of course this isn’t fake because it has no need to be. The band split nearly 6 months ago and they have nothing to hide anymore since there’s nothing between them. It’s classy, gold writing on cream card, and not very Liam at all, or maybe it could be since he hasn’t spoken to him in years. He considers it a mistake, perhaps this was meant for Niall or Zayn or someone except it can’t be when his name is written on the top in pretty script and Harry wonders what this means. Maybe Liam just invited everyone he knew and he just happened to just get lumped into that. There’s a number to RSVP and Harry thumbs his finger over it, pulls his phone out of his pocket to put the number in. He’s let the band and the others down far too many times, calling the number is the least he can do.

 

 

_Harry still calls Zayn sometimes and not just because he’s the only one who will still answer, or at least Harry tries to tell himself so. Still Zayn is a good listener but also know when to say something and mostly it’s the right thing to be said. Still they don’t usually talk about much, mostly because it just makes Harry feel terrible._

_“I get it” Zayn says, “I get why you had to do it” Louis has left Harry at this point and Harry remembers the band is on a break from touring and he tries not to think about wherever Louis’ spending it it’s not with him._

_“Do you, really?”_

_“Yeah”_

_“But?”_

_“Nothing”_

_“Tell me”_

_“Maybe you could have talked to us, properly, because we’d probably all have got it”_

_“Yeah”_

_“Sorry”_

_“No, it’s fine, I needed to hear . . .”_

_“No you didn’t”_

_“Tell me what I’ve missed, is Lou still as grumpy in the mornings?”_

_“It’s Louis, of course he fucking is” Harry laughs although the lump in his throat is hard to ignore and he listens with his eyes watering when Zayn talks about all the mundane stuff they’ve been doing and maybe he could just take it all back? Maybe he can get on a plane and meet the others when they start touring again, America is it? Europe?_

_“It’s late, I should go” Zayn says_

_“Oh, sorry”_

_“It’s fine, call me whenever you know that right?”_

_“Yeah, thanks”_

_“Bye”_

 

 

 

 

Harry drives to the venue because he’ll probably see the wedding, congratulate Liam and then come back home. Simple. No awkward conversations with Niall or Zayn, nothing. He’ll go because he got invited and because it’ll be rude to not go. If he sees Louis, _when_ he sees Louis, well, he’ll cross that bridge when he gets to it. He checks his appearance three times before he gets out of the car because this is the first time he’s seeing any of them for years and he doesn’t want to look terrible.

 

 

 

 

Niall is waiting outside the church talking to a guy and for a moment Harry thinks he's going to walk past him and not say anything. Niall looks across at him though and Harry isn’t entirely sure what his expression means.

 

“You bothered to turn up then” Niall says and Harry isn’t so surprised he’s still angry.

 

“Yeah” he shrugs

 

“Didn’t think you would, didn’t think you cared about Liam that much”

 

“He’s getting _married_ . . .”

 

“We were in the same band for _years_ , didn’t make much difference did it?”

 

“Niall, please . . .”

 

“Have a good day” Niall pushes away from the wall and heads inside. It’s not as if Harry expected him to see the others and for things to be good between them again, except maybe he was a little hopeful, and he hates how his chest feels tight and maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all. There are more people walking towards the doors now and he's in the way so he goes inside and slides into a seat near the back, so he can leave quickly if he needs to.

 

 

 

 

_Harry’s not so insensitive as to drop his album so soon after he’s left the band. It’s a good 9 months before he’s happy with everything he’s written anyway and then a while after that before everything is done. He gets the final thing in his hands a week or so before it’s released and looking over it, seeing everything so completely his own and free of anything to do with the band is strange. Good, maybe, but strange._

 

 

Harry leaves before they can take the pictures because he doesn’t want to be in them, goes outside to smoke around the back of the church.

 

“Harry?” and Harry couldn’t forget that accent he used to reply so much on. He looks up from the floor and spots Zayn. His hair is half blonde now, back to a quiff and Harry likes it, but the again Zayn always looked good, looked good even when none of the rest of them did.

 

“Hi”

 

“Still smoking then?” Harry shrugs

 

“You?”

 

“Of course” Zayn leans back against the wall with a sigh and reaches for a crumpled packet in his pocket, Harry offers him a lighter before he can get his own out.

 

“Thanks”

 

“No problem” they fall into a strange silence because this is the first time he's spoken to any of them in years and maybe he should say something but what is there to say?

 

“Did you go to the ceremony? I don’t think I saw you,” Harry says eventually and Zayn shakes his head.

 

“It’s not my scene”

 

“You couldn’t make an exception for Liam?”

 

“I’m a shit friend I know” Zayn says, tossing the rest of his cigarette to the floor and lighting another.

 

“You don’t win the award for shittest friend”

 

“Neither do you” Zayn says and pushes himself off the wall to look at Harry. He hadn’t changed much except his hair is shorter and Zayn wishes it wasn’t. He never got his tattoos removed and Zayn glances over the way they’re peaking out of his unbuttoned shirt. It could almost be 2014 again before Harry started to drift away from them and he and Louis were painfully in love. Maybe then he would be talking to Harry as a married man, if he and Louis hadn’t fucked things up for each other.

 

“Listen Harry, I don’t know what you think happened for us after you left but it was hard. It was fucking hard I won’t lie, but we got through it and we moved on. You shouldn’t beat yourself up about us or Louis because it probably wasn’t as bad as you think it was”

 

“So no Liam using his superhuman strength to throw sofas at Niall or anything?”

 

“Sadly not”

 

“Good” Harry smiles a little and Zayn misses that, misses how happy Harry used to be.

 

“How was the ceremony then? In case anyone asks”

 

“Good” Harry says and Zayn looks across at him.

 

“How was it really?” he kind of always hated how Zayn always _knew_ , how he could never lie to him because Zayn understood him better than anyone, than Louis, even than himself it seemed.

 

“It was shit,” Harry says, crumpling his cigarette with his foot, “I mean, it was lovely and Liam looked great. But, you know, it was just a little shitty having to watch him do that”

 

“I still don’t understand why he invited you, and also why you bothered to come”

 

“I don’t really know, I guess I thought I needed to or something”

 

“I kind of understand” he doesn’t though, not really, because how can anyone understand when they didn’t have what he and Louis had? When they hadn’t fallen completely, embarrassingly quickly in love with a boy who was practically a stranger. When they hadn’t been through so much for it to mean nothing. Harry doesn’t blame Louis for leaving him because he was shitty and it’s all his own fault but he can’t help but hate how things have turned out, wishes he had been a better person.

 

“Did you drive here?” Harry nods, “Shall we get to the evening venue early? Get a drink?”

 

“Sure”

 

 

 

“What are you up to these days then?” Zayn asks. Harry’s car smells vaguely like smoke and sweet perfume and something very _Harry._ It’s comforting in a way but it hurts as well.

 

“Writing a little, might try and pen a few songs together for the end of the year”

 

“Don’t you enjoy it anymore?”

 

“Course” Harry frowns, “Performing is the only thing I’m good at, it was the best part of being in the band . . .”

 

“But?”

 

“But . . . that’s the word isn’t it. I don’t know really. Anyway, what about you? Didn’t you guys ever fancy a reunion tour?”

 

“We talked about it. Lou was all up for it. But then Liam got signed and Lou started that football stuff and it just keep getting pushed back and then Niall went home for ages for family stuff and we just never got around to it. Anyway, people change, people forget”

 

“You don’t mean that do you? If you said today you were doing a tour next week the tickets would sell, you have great fans, we always did”

 

“Maybe if you said you were coming back,” Zayn says a little bitterly and Harry glances across at him.

 

“That’s not fair”

 

“You were the one who left us Harry, we didn’t force you out, we never wanted you to leave”

 

“Don’t please, this is supposed to be about Liam so let’s keep it that way yeah?”

 

“Can I smoke in here?”

 

“Sure, open the window”

 

 

 

 

Harry goes to the bathroom and tries to ruffle his hair up a bit because it looks gross and flat. He’s a little uncoordinated already, tipsy on the few drinks he's had. Maybe he should just leave now while he can, before he has to talk to Liam or see Louis. He has horrible dark smudges under his eyes and maybe he’s let himself go and should look after himself more.

 

 

 

He heads back to the reception room because they’re serving food soon and he was too anxious to eat this morning. He thinks about stopping by the bar for a other drink, although maybe he shouldn’t, since he doesn’t want to embarrass himself or something.

 

“Harry?” Harry swears his eyes sting a little and he hates himself for that because he shouldn’t, _he doesn’t_ , still care about Louis like this.

 

“Hi” Louis looks great. His hair is the same as it always was if, like his is, a little shorter. He’s wearing a simple, well-fitted black suit.

 

“I didn’t know whether you’d come or not”

 

“Neither did I” Harry admits, his brain a mess because maybe he was lying to himself when he said he was over Louis. Because how can you just forget someone you loved for so long? Louis smiles and Harry definitely needs that drink now. “You don’t look much different”

 

“Is that a good thing?”

 

“Yeah . . . it is” Louis steps a little closer, “You shouldn’t have cut your hair though”

 

“I needed a change” Harry shrugs

 

“I get it” he pats his jacket pocket, “Well I’m off for a fag, enjoy the rest of the day yeah?”

 

“Yeah, you too” Harry says without really thinking, watching Louis half wave and walk towards the door, wondering why he fucked up so badly.

 

 

 

 

Harry spends way too long looking at the seating plan because Liam invited a lot of people. He takes a shaky sip of his drink, another double spirit, and winces. He hates how he knows half the people here and they all remind him of the band, remind him of Louis and what they used to have. The only reason he got through the split was by completely separating himself from it all, from everyone and from what he used to be. Now though, here, it’s all a bit too much. His drink is already half gone when he slides into his seat. He looks round the room, checks to see where Liam put the others, and jumps when someone taps his shoulder.

 

“Jumpy” Zayn comments

 

“Well don’t just sneak up on people then” Zayn chooses to ignore him.

 

“Come on, someone ditched on my table, something about being too hungover or something”

 

“They must really hate Liam . . .” he's glad when he sits down next to Zayn nearer to the front but not too on show and he sets his drink down, pushes it away a little so he’s not tempted. “I bumped into Louis” Harry says looking at the centrepieces. The tables are white and the decoration a little gaudy bordering on tacky and Harry wonders if that’s Louis’ input or not. They’d joked about Liam being the first to get married, but that was when things were serious with Danielle, a long time ago when things were easier between them.

 

“Shit, how was it?”

 

“You know” Harry shrugs, “Shit” Zayn looks at him for a moment but doesn’t say anything. Harry glances around and sees Louis walk back in with his hair a little windswept and sit down across the room. He hugs some girl to his left but it doesn’t last long.

 

“He’s not with her,” Zayn says

 

“I didn’t ask”

 

“You didn’t need to”

 

“I don’t care what he does or who he’s with or been with or fucked, we’re not together anymore remember?”

 

“Maybe you should talk to him though,” Zayn says, “Properly” he adds when Harry tries to say something

 

“What would I even say?” Zayn shrugs

 

“You’ll have to figure that one out, you’re the one who left” Harry looks across at the top table to where Liam is sat and he looks happy in a grey suit and Harry didn’t think grey was Liam’s choice colour but it looks nice. The room is full and loud and Harry wonders what it would be like if he was happier, if somehow, he hadn’t left the band and things could have been different. But, like Zayn is so fond of telling him, things aren’t different and he did leave the band and he just kind if has to deal with it. He reaches for his drink again because he feels terrible. He feels Zayn watching him as his finishes it and sets the glass down again.

 

“I’m fine, honestly, I’m as fine as I could possibly be”

 

 

 

 

“Speeches!” someone says and Zayn groans quietly

 

“I swear if they’re cringey and cheesy I’m going outside for a bit”

 

“I might join you” the pudding has a red heart drawn to the side in sauce and Harry scratches his spoon through it and pushes it away. Liam stands up and he's a little flushed.

 

“First I just want to thank everyone for coming today, it means a lot to us.” Zayn sighs and leans back in his chair, pulling out a packet of cigarettes from his pocket ready to leave. He talks some sappy rubbish about love and ‘the one’ and Harry swears he’s combined a bunch of speeches he found online because it’s so awful and he’s a little embarrassed having to listen to it.

 

“I guess I should make a special mention to the guys here.” He looks around and for a second his eyes rest on where he and Zayn are sitting. “These guys were there from the start so it only seems fitting that they should be here now. Things might not have ended well for all of us but we pulled through and they still mean the world to me. I know I’m not marrying them and I should probably talk about my wife’s eyes and make a Harry Potter joke but I just wanted to say thanks for coming even though you didn’t have to and even though you might not have wanted to because I think it’s important we’re here, together, for what might be one last time” he raises his glass and Harry feels Zayn touch his side lightly and they get up when he best man starts to talk.

 

 

 

 

“That was some deep shit, for Liam” Zayn says. They’ve found the designated smoking area which is complete with heaters and flowers that are already beginning to wilt slightly.

 

“That was shitty of him really” Zayn looks at Harry and hands him his lighter

 

“Why?”

 

“Well all that crap about being there from the start like he’s narrating some shitty reunion documentary or something. It was a load of shit”

 

“We were there from the start though and it is probably going to be the last time we’re together again. It was shitty yeah but it was honest”

 

“That just makes it worse”

 

“Yeah I guess it does.” They lull into silence and Zayn watches Harry flick his lighter on and off until he rests his hand on his briefly to stop him, “You should call me sometimes” Zayn says as Harry’s shrugging his jacket off, he never got the tattoo they got together removed and Zayn wonders if it means something or not.

 

“It’s not going to change anything,” Harry says bluntly and Zayn sucks in a breath. He knows but hearing Harry say it only makes it harder.

 

“It doesn’t have to, we could just be friends again”

 

“I don’t think . . .”

 

“I missed you” Zayn says quietly, “I really missed you”

 

“Don’t say stuff like that, please”

 

“But if you feel the same . . .”

 

“I don’t though” Harry says, “I really don’t. It’s been years Zayn, I’ve moved on” Zayn doesn’t believe him. You don’t just move on from something like what they had like that, you don’t just _forget_. “You should do the same, it feels nice”

 

“Please, just, call once or something. At least call the others” Harry smiles a little again and it’s kind of his thing Zayn’s noticed.

 

“Sure” Zayn wasn’t too sure what to expect when he got the invitation but he thinks it wasn’t having Harry back like this only to slip away again. Forever just out of reach, forever always there and then not. “Why are we still here? Why are we bothering to still pretend that this means something to us, I’ve seen Liam get married now, he was happy. Should we just leave?”

 

“Do you really want to?”

 

“I don’t know”

 

“It’d be easier to sure”

 

“But?”

 

“But maybe that isn’t what’s best” Harry sighs and stands up

 

“We should get back then”

 

 

 

 

People have drifted towards the dance floor except Harry follows Zayn back to their seats. They sit in a mildly awkward silence for a while.

 

“Hey, how are you enjoying things?” Harry and Zayn both look up and Liam beams, is looking a little pink and Harry wonders if he’s had a few drinks.

 

“Congratulations” he says and Liam touches his shoulder lightly.

 

“Thanks, it’s good to see you both, really”

 

“Yeah, you too” Zayn says and maybe it is, in a way.

 

“I should try and find the wife” Liam says and with another smile is gone. Zayn shakes his head.

 

“I missed Liam”

 

“He is pretty miss-able”

 

“Yeah . . . yeah definitely”

 

 

 

Harry is drunk enough to be uncoordinated and gets locked out of his phone because he types the code in wrong too many times. He slides it back into his pocket and picks his drink back up. He’s not sure what it is since Zayn bought it for him and it’s probably water because he said something about slowing down and Harry swore at him and Zayn sighed and went to the bar. He’s not sure where Zayn is now though and he stands up, presses a hand to his head when it spins, and goes outside to look for him. He’s not at the smoking area but Harry reckons it’s probably a good idea to sit down for a while, just until he’s finished his drink and can stand without nearly falling over at least.

 

“Oh, hi again” Harry looks around and sees Louis with a cigarette behind his ear. It’s endearing and it only makes Harry feel sad and shitty.

 

“Hi” he replies. Louis sits down on the other side of the bench and Harry never wanted things to get like this between them.

 

“You doing okay?” Louis asks

 

“What does that even mean?” Louis shrugs

 

“Well today must have been hard I guess, for you. But also like, in life, in general, you doing okay?”

 

“Yeah, good, great”

 

“You just said three things and I didn’t believe any of them, you forget I knew you so well for fucking _years_ ”

 

“You don’t know me now though”

 

“Yeah, but you haven’t changed much I don’t think”

 

“You can’t be sure though” Harry says back weakly, not sure what point he’s trying to argue, only he sure that it’s easier than talking about feelings.

 

“Have you changed much then?” Louis asks

 

“Not really”

 

“Point made, you’re sad, why?”

 

“Why the fuck do you think? This” he waves his hands around, “All of this, Liam moving on and getting married, Niall not talking to me, me talking to Zayn again, this, us, now” he takes a sip of his drink because he needs it

 

“I . . .”

 

“Please, don’t”

 

“You don’t know what I was going to say”

 

“If it was something shitty and deep about us or whatever I don’t want to hear it. I had enough shit from Liam’s wedding speech”

 

“It was something right?”

 

“It certainly was” they fall into a silence which isn’t uneasy exactly but not entirely welcome either. “You’re not angry with me then?” Harry asks suddenly because Louis is about to finish his cigarette and he doesn’t want him to stand up and leave without them talking about anything. Louis smiles gently

 

“Not anymore, it’s been a long time, I’ve recovered” and if Louis can do it why can’t he? Why is sitting here with Louis so hard for him?

 

“Do you . . . have someone?”

 

“Not anymore, it lasted a few months but nothing serious, you?”

 

“No, nothing ever really . . . felt right” Harry says carefully

 

“What do you do now then? Still making music?”

 

“Is this an interview or something?”

 

“Just asking, I don’t know anything anymore, you should introduce yourself again”

 

“Hello I’m Harry, I’m from Holmes Chapel but you probably won’t know where that is so it’s easier to just say Cheshire, I sometimes still write songs and never perform them and I used to work in a bakery” Louis laughs but it sounds sad and empty, “Your turn”

 

“Louis, I turn 28 this year which is fucking scary, I used to be in a band before we broke up indefinitely, I teach kids football these days because I don’t like singing anymore”

 

“Nice to meet you Louis”

 

“You too”

 

“What are you doing out here?” a man slurs at them, his tie is askew, “Youngsters like you should be inside having the best fucking night of your lives”

 

“You’re right, we’ll get back” Louis stands up and Harry follows him up the steps.

 

“You getting a drink?” Harry asks, motioning towards his empty glass.

 

“Yeah I will do”

 

 

 

 

They get back to the room and Harry wonders what Louis is going to do now.

 

“Um, Zayn . . .” Harry nods towards where Zayn is still sat down on his phone. Louis looks a little torn and Harry wonders if they’re going to end like this.

 

“I’ll come sit down for a bit” he says and follows Harry across the room. Zayn looks up and frowns a little when he sees Louis as well as Harry.

 

“Louis, good to see you”

 

“You too” Louis says and sits down next to him. “How’ve you been?”

 

“Good, how’s the football?”

 

“Good”

 

“Great, everyone’s good” Harry says and Louis has to laugh at how ridiculously awkward this is.

 

“Come on, we didn’t come to this fucking wedding to sit here like we’re at a school reunion, we should go dance or something” Harry, relived someone else suggested it, stands up.

 

“Sure. Come on Zayn, we all saw that video of you dancing, you’re fine”

 

“I like to think I’m better than that now” Zayn huffs but stands as well.

 

“You’ll have to prove it then”

 

 

 

 

It’s 2am and Harry is drunk, very drunk. Louis throws his arm around his waist and his lips so dangerously close to his neck as he says something in his ear. Harry can only smile back because he has no fucking clue what Louis said.

 

“Now here’s a little throwback for the married man himself . . .” the DJ says over the end of the song and Liam pauses as people turn to look at him. He plays the first few notes of _What Makes You Beautiful_ and it’s the most awful song and painful to hear because of what it means and Louis looks over at him with a strange mixture of anger and happiness and Harry just shrugs and sings along as loud as he can to hide the ache of his heart. They attempt some bad dance moves and Louis’ skin is hot against his and his throat is dry and he needs another drink but it’s such a horribly perfect moment and Harry is glad to be there. Is glad he gets to see Louis happy like this.

 

 

 

 

It pushes 3am and Zayn can’t find Harry. He left the dance floor at least half an hour ago and he didn’t see him when he went to share a cigarette with one of Liam’s drunk relatives a few minutes ago. He wonders if Harry’s gone back home, he doesn’t even know if Harry booked a hotel or not, but he wouldn’t have gone without saying good bye. Or would he? He gets himself a water because he can’t see straight and he has to lean against a table littered with confetti until he can get himself to walk without falling again.

 

 

 

 

When he finds Harry on the front steps where some cars are waiting for later on he’s extremely drunk. And crying. Zayn doesn’t say anything as he sits down carefully next to him, setting his cup aside and sliding his arm around Harry’s waist, pulling him to his side. He pets him gently and tries to calm him down when his breathing gets all choked up. Harry never used to cry often but when he did it was always bad. The first time he had to kiss someone, he can’t even remember who, because they wanted to play up to his terrible womaniser image he hadn’t even be able to go to Louis because he felt so guilty. Zayn had tried to say that Louis understood, that he knew Harry didn’t want to and that it meant nothing, but Harry was adamant that he’d done something awful and he’d fallen asleep next to Zayn with tear tracks down his cheeks.

 

“What’s up?” Zayn asks when Harry is hiccupping breaths only slightly.

 

“I just . . .” Harry breaks off and shakes his head. They stay like that for a while until Zayn pulls away to offer Harry the water.

 

“Drink this, you’ll feel better, you’re just drunk” he knows Harry isn’t, that there’s more to it but Harry just nods and does as Zayn says. Harry shivers.

 

“Price you pay for dressing like a damn slut” Zayn teases, pulling at the bottom of Harry’s unbuttoned, semi-sheer shirt. He thought he might as well go the whole hog. Harry laughs a little and wipes at a few fresh tears. Zayn pulls him to his side again.

 

“I didn’t think it would be like this” Harry says

 

“Like what?”

 

“So _sad_ ” Harry scrubs a hand through his hair, “I don’t . . . I’m too drunk for this, can we just go back inside?”

 

Zayn looks at Harry closely. He might not look so baby faced anymore and he’s close to 30 than he is 20 and he’s certainly not the teenager Zayn first met but he’s still Harry and after everything Zayn still cares about him a lot. They were never the most natural or friends but somehow that made things stronger between them. “You always used to say it was better to talk about things than keep them to yourself to us, maybe you should take your own advice”

 

“I didn’t think I would feel like this. And it’s so fucking stupid because I was the one who left and I don’t deserve to feel like this because it’s my fault and I’m happy for Louis, I really am . . .”

 

“But you loved Louis for 4 years and that still counts for something” Zayn says and Harry nods.

 

“I thought I was over him but I guess not” Harry says and his voice cracks a little and Zayn stands them up because if Harry’s going to cry again they might as well go inside where it’s warmer.

 

“I don’t want to go back,” Harry says when Zayn tries to guide him back inside. “I just want to go home now” except he doesn’t, not really, he doesn’t want to just leave again when he has the chance, a small chance, to fix things.

 

“Harry I know you remember, we were in the same band for 4 years, I know you’ll regret it if you don’t.”

 

Harry looks torn but wipes his eyes and pushes his hair back.

 

“Yeah, yeah, fine, okay”

 

 

 

 

They have the belated balloon drop because they forgot all about it and Harry watches as the balloons fall around him and Zayn and Louis hit each other with them and he’s horrendously drunk but maybe he doesn’t feel so sad anymore. Zayn loops his arm around his waist and hands him a balloon too.

 

“Here you go babe”

 

“Thanks” there’s something in the balloon and he pops it and confetti explodes out onto the floor- little horseshoes and hearts and bells. He leans into Zayn because if he doesn’t then the floor will hit him and he’ll never get up again.

 

 

 

 

It’s 5am and they’re being kicked out. Liam is swearing at the security man while his wife stands to his side still drinking.

 

“There’s a curfew,” the security man says

 

“Do you know who the fuck I am? If I want to stay here later than I should be fucking able to” Liam slurs and it’s sad and desperate and Louis has to look away, puts his drink down. Harry is still sat at one of the tables where he left him a good half hour ago, head resting on his arms on the table, asleep.

 

“Harry, Harry come on. Home” he shakes Harry gently and wishes Zayn was here to help him. Harry mumbles something incoherent and Louis sighs, crouches down to jerk him awake. “Harry!”

 

“Fuck, did Liam get married? Did I miss everything?” he says wildly, looking up and around before spotting Louis.

 

“Oh”

 

“Hi love”

 

“Did I fall asleep?”

 

“Like a sweet little baby” Louis says and Harry punches him gently, although it’s not very coordinated and he punches the air next to Louis’ chest instead. Louis shakes his head.

 

“Fuck off” Louis stands with a sigh and helps Harry up because he was never much use when drunk, always had no control of his limbs. “Are we going?”

 

“We have to” Louis nods towards where Liam has given up fighting the security guard and is comforting his wife who is crying a little.

 

“It’s not a wedding without tears,” Louis says, sliding his arm around Harry’s waist to steady him.

 

“No it’s not. I never understood why people liked weddings so much, they’re so terrible” Harry yawns.

 

“Did you book a hotel room?” Louis asks, stumbling a little.

 

“Why, you planning on asking me back to yours if I don’t?” Harry asks with a smirk and Louis looks at him strangely before laughing.

 

“If you want to. We can fall asleep together like we used to”

 

“Like we used to” Harry echoes and laughs without humour, “That was a long time ago”

 

“It was. So do you have a room?”

 

“I was just going to go home, I didn’t expect to be here so late” Louis pauses and thinks.

 

“It doesn’t mean anything if you come back to mine”

 

“Of course not”

 

“Okay then”

 

 

 

 

Harry hasn’t brought anything with him and Louis stumbles to reception to get him a toothbrush and comes back to find Harry asleep again, still fully dressed with his boots on.

 

“Come on Harry, stop being so useless” Louis says, tugging his shoe off and doing the same to the other, “Get undressed you twat unless you want to sleep fully clothed” Louis says and Harry groans, lifts his head slightly.

 

“Lou” he whines

 

“What?”

 

“I’m too drunk” he answers, rolling onto his back and hiding his eyes with his arm. Louis goes over and starts to undo the three buttons on his shirt Harry actually managed to button up.

 

“You can do your jeans” Louis says, going to the bathroom to get a headache tablet ready for the morning and to brush his teeth. He has to lean against the sink to do it. He gets back to the bedroom to find Harry hasn’t moved and he’s not entirely surprised because Harry was always this useless when he was drunk. He remembers their first BRIT awards when Harry had gotten too drunk too fast and Louis had to hold him steady under the table even though he was gone as well. They’d stumbled back to their hotel room somehow after Harry pressed for the wrong floor and Louis had lost the key and they had to go get another. He’d held Harry close because he was scared it couldn’t be real and got up with him at 7am when he threw up.

_“I suppose we had to make it a memorable experience,” Louis had said and Harry smiled weakly, leaning back against Louis._

_“Thanks”_

_“Don’t mention it, although I won’t be kissing you for a while you know?”_

_“I’d be grossed out if you did”_

 

“Harry please help me out here” Louis said, poking at Harry’s side, rolling him over. Harry forces his eyes open and with slow fingers fiddles with the button on his jeans. Louis goes to turn the light off and climbs under the covers, Harry finally, _finally_ joining him. He’s not sure if he should find this stranger, sleeping in the same bed as your ex after so long, but it’s _Harry_. How can things be weird? Harry stays on the edge of the right side and Louis on the left and Louis falls asleep to Harry’s steady breathing.

 

 

 

 

Louis wakes up because his head is pounding and the sun sneaks through the bottom of the curtains. He gets out of bed slowly, sitting on the edge for a moment because he feels lightheaded, and stands. It’s only then that he remembers and looks down to see Harry still asleep. His hair is dark against the white hotel sheets and his lips very pink. Louis feels strange and maybe he’s about to throw up because he definitely drank too much last night and Harry shouldn’t be here.

 

He checks his phone and it’s 2pm. He’s got an hour to check out.

 

“Harry?” Louis shakes him gently and this is fast becoming a routine. “Harry for fucks sake wake up” Harry groans, still half asleep and Louis sighs. Harry was always dead to the world after they’d been out drinking.

 

“Wha . . ?” Harry sits up, rubs his head and his face and Louis tries not to look at him because he's shirtless, “Louis?” it’s almost comic really, in an empty sad kind of way.

 

“Yep”

 

“Um”

 

“Don’t worry, we didn’t do anything, you were just exceptionally drunk”

 

“Oh”

 

“Yeah” Harry expected to go to the wedding, be seen there, congratulate Liam if he saw him alone and he had the chance, then go back home, maybe stop for a takeaway on the way back and promptly forget about the whole ordeal. On his list of things to do was definitely not wake up shirtless next to Louis with his head pounding and Louis looking far too smug.

 

“Get up, we need to check out soon”

 

 

 

 

Harry is almost afraid to put his shirt on because he’s not sure what that means. He’s not stupid, he knows sleeping in Louis’ bed when they were dunk isn’t going to change 4 years of separation, but Louis standing there like he always used to when things were good makes him hopeful.

 

“Are you getting breakfast before you go back?” Louis asks and Harry nods

 

“Probably should”

 

“I’ll take a shower then”

 

 

 

 

Louis’ hair is soft and fluffy and still slightly wet and Harry always loved how endearing he always was like this.

 

“You didn’t bring any spare clothes did you?”

 

“Um . . . no” Louis rummages through his backpack and tosses a jumper onto the bed. It’s a dark blue one he doesn’t recognise.

 

“Thanks”

 

“No problem, now go get changed or something, I’m starving”

 

 

 

 

Harry picks at his food because he’s suddenly realised how sick he feels because he never feels good the morning after. Louis smirks at him and continues eating and Harry waves down a waiter to order another black coffee and some dry toast.

 

“Shame, the food’s quite nice”

 

“Hmm, looks it” Harry says, not able to look at what Louis is eating.

 

“Remember the morning after Niall’s birthday? When you were so hungover you went onstage still a little drunk the next day”

 

“I felt shit then”

 

“So, you can’t feel as bad as that, do you feel better now?”

 

“No” Harry answers, “I still feel shit” the waiter brings his toast and Harry slides the packets of butter and the mini jam to the side because _no_ , not right now. Louis laughs.

 

“Good luck driving back home” Harry groans

 

“I’ll have to call someone” he can barely turn his head without it aching, let alone drive. Louis looks across at him. Sitting there, with Harry in his jumper, it could almost be them happy again.

 

“I’ll drive you, I’m going back anyway” Harry doesn’t think about how that complicates things because he’ll have to get his car back somehow because he doesn’t want to stop being with Louis again.

 

“Thanks”

 

 

 

 

Louis frowns when he has to ask.

 

“Where are you living now?” it’s such a small question but it forces Harry to remember that they don’t really know each other anymore.

 

 

 

Louis pulls into the driveway and peers up at the house.

 

“Nice”

 

“Thanks” there’s a pause and then they both start talking

 

“It was . . .” “Thanks for . . .” Harry cuts off and smiles at Louis, lets him continue

 

“It was nice seeing you again”

 

“Do you really mean that?”

 

“Yeah, I think I do” Harry isn’t too sure what else to say and he opens the car door and gets out. Louis rolls down the window. “See you later yeah?”

 

“Yeah, thanks, bye” Harry waves Louis off and goes inside. He ignores the post on the floor and goes to the kitchen not too sure what to do with himself.

 

 

****

 

 

_The problem isn’t that Harry doesn’t enjoy performing anymore, there’s no where else he feels more at ease, it’s more that he can’t shake the feeling that they’ve done this before. They’ve had this crowd and their eagerness and their energy and they’ve sung this song and Liam’s told this joke and Louis has worn that shirt and nothing is ever as good the second time around, let alone the hundredth. Louis catches his hand afterwards, smiles at him and he tries to smile back but was never any good at lying to Louis._

_“What’s up?”_

_“Nothing” it’s useless though because Louis doesn’t believe him, has no reason to and maybe he's not exactly trying too hard to lie anyway. “Can we talk about his later?” Niall has jumped onto Zayn’s back and is getting a piggy back down the hall while Liam chases them. Harry wonders how they can still do this, but perhaps more importantly, wonders why he can’t. Liam races past them and then doubles back._

_“What’s up with you?” he peers at Harry_

_“Nothing”_

_“Why do you look like Louis when someone told him there was no tea France because they only drink coffee and he believed them”_

_“Hey! That was a fucking long time ago why do you always have to bring it up?”_

_“Because it’s fucking golden” Liam says and Louis laughs along with him because maybe it is funny to look back on. Liam promptly forgets he’s supposed to be concerned about Harry when Niall cheers and he turns to see Niall and Zayn at the end of the hall where the metaphoric finishing line is._

_“We win”_

_“Not fair!”_

_“Totally fair, you’re the one that just stopped” Niall suggests they go out as a celebration for their win and when Harry’s drunk and Niall is once again on Zayn’s back in some club somewhere he’s a lot happier. Liam throws an arm around his shoulders because Louis can’t and Zayn stumbles because he's had too much to drink as well and Niall falls to the floor laughing. It’s a messy night but perhaps the best part about the band, and one of he reasons he’s staying, is the others because he’s not sure where and who he would be without them._

_Louis is falling asleep on his shoulder in the car ride back and Harry shakes him gently awake when they get back. Louis mumbles sleepily._

_“Come on, bed time”_

_“This is my bed” Louis says and Harry shakes his head and shakes him with more force_

_“Fucking hell . . .” Louis sits up straighter though and looks wildly around, “Oh”_

_“Come on” Louis tosses his jacket off when they get back and stops at that, seemingly having reached the extent of his desire to get undressed._

_“Lou, you’re useless”_

_“That’s nice”_

_“I didn’t mean it”_

_“I know you didn’t” Louis says with a smile and Harry pokes him gently._

_“Get undressed then” when they’re finally in bed and the room has stopped spinning so much and Louis is asleep with his hair tickling his skin Harry is glad they didn’t have to have a conversation about he's feeling, isn’t sure he even wants to have it at all anymore._

 

 

 

 

It’s a few days later when he checks his phone and sees he has three texts from an unknown number.

 

_Hi_

_Sorry sent that by accident, just wondered how you are, didn’t catch you at the end of the wedding_

_It’s Zayn by the way_

 

Harry frowns at the texts and reads them again slowly. He didn’t really expect Zayn to be texting him, he hadn’t really expected anything from the wedding, but it’s nice. Nice that Zayn seems to care about him still. He texts back and hates how stupidly hopeful he gets when he asks if Zayn wants to meet up sometimes. How worried he is that what happened was just Zayn’s way of getting through the wedding. He’s spent so long without the others that needing them around again seems wrong, like he should have been able to move on or something.

_Sure, text me the address_

 

 

 

 

“So what happened between you and Louis?” Zayn asks sitting down on one of the stupidly tall stools Harry has at the breakfast bar, “Fucking hell, what’s the deal with these?”

 

“Oh, I thought they looked nice” Harry shrugs

 

“Pretty and useless”

 

“If you’re insinuating something . . .”

 

“Not at all babe, I mean you’re useless but . . .”

 

“Fuck off” Harry punches Zayn’s arm playfully

 

“Is that really a way to treat your guest? Everyone who thought you were the polite one had you all wrong”

 

“I’m terribly sorry, would you like a drink?”

 

“Yeah” Harry stares at him, “Um, what you got?” he always got a little overwhelmed when he went round to Harry and Louis’ because their tea cupboard was bordering on excessive.

 

“Coffee, maybe” Harry frowns and goes to check

 

“What happened to the tea?”

 

“I guess I just stopped”

 

“Oh”

 

“I mean Louis used to . . .”

 

“I’ll have coffee then”

 

“Sure” Harry is half dressed up in jeans and a light blue shirt the collar of which is tucked haphazardly over the top of an old cream jumper.

 

“Is that a look or did you just get lazy when you were getting dressed?”

 

“A look of course, got to keep up my status as resident best dressed ex member of the band”

 

“I mean it’s kind of like middle class dad”

 

“Maybe that’s what I was going for”

 

“Is there something you want to tell me?”

 

“Oh didn’t I mention it?”

 

“It may have slipped your mind”

 

“Oops” Harry passes Zayn his coffee

 

“Thanks”

 

“So did you come here for a reason or did you just want to experience my exceptional coffee?”

 

“It’s pretty shitty to be honest,” Harry tries to look offended for a moment

 

“Yeah it is, I think it’s the milk, I was trying out coconut . . .”

 

“Coconut?” Zayn wrinkles his nose up and sets his cup down, “You should just get normal, better _and_ cheaper”

 

“But it’s so . . .”

 

“I don’t want to get into a debate about the pros and cons of milk with you, I have a feeling that you know a lot”

 

“I did do some research”

 

“I knew it”

 

“You want to go out then?”

 

 

 

 

“Nothing like that happened”

 

“Did you talk?”

 

“Not much, I mean maybe, I can’t remember a lot . . .”

 

“How did you get home?”

 

“Oh, I stayed with Louis for the night . . .”

 

“And nothing happened?”

 

“No, honestly, he drove me home and that was it” Zayn frowns

 

“Nothing else”

 

“He didn’t say anything”

 

“But I guess it’s kind of positive, you didn’t fight or anything”

 

“You could say that I guess”

 

“Do you want to see him again?”

 

“Yeah I mean . . . of course”

 

“But?”

 

“But . . . it’s hard, I don’t want to get hopeful”

 

“Are you going to call him or something?”

 

“I mean I don’t have his number”

 

“But I do”

 

“Did you do something dodgy to get everyone’s numbers or something?”

 

“I can’t tell my secrets” Zayn taps his nose and Harry rolls his eyes, “Pass me your phone . . .”

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Hello?” Harry pauses because hearing Louis on the end of the phone again like he’s calling from home while Louis is somewhere stunting is strange and brings back an awful empty feeling in his chest, “Look is this is some cold caller you can fuck o- . . .”

 

“No, hi, sorry it’s me”

 

“Harry?”

 

“Yeah” Louis pauses

 

“Should I be worried about how you got my number?”

 

“Zayn . . .”

 

“Oh, I guess that’s okay . . .” the phone crackles, “Sorry just . . . okay I’m here”

 

“What was that?”

 

“I may have had an incident doing the washing . . .”

 

“Is it everywhere again?” the problem was never Louis actually doing the washing, he was okay at that, always remembered to be eco friendly and put it on 30, it was that when the washing was done and he’d stuffed it in the dryer he never bothered to fold anything and it would stay heaped on the sofa until Harry gave in and folded it.

_“You know I can’t fold for shit”_

_“You are a little shit”_

_“You love me though?”_

_“Maybe”_ it always ended with Louis clambering into Harry’s lap and kissing him and the washing inevitably getting forgotten, not that Harry minded too much then.

 

“Yeah, it’s towels though so it makes a comfy bed to lie on” Harry rolls his eyes but his chest feels a little funny because he really wishes he was there with Louis, to witness the mess in person, that he wasn’t on the end of the phone feeling ridiculously scared and hopeful. “I don’t think you rang to chat about laundry though did you?”

 

“I mean as riveting as it is . . . no I just, I guess I just wanted to say . . .”

 

“If you rang to say thanks it’s fine, you already said it. If you rang because you want to meet up again or something then that’s also fine”

 

“What?” Harry asks before he can help it. Louis laughs softly and the ache in Harry’s chest has loosened slightly although he’s now feeling a little light headed.

 

“I said we could meet up again if you wanted to”

 

“Yeah, I’d like that”

 

“So would I”

 

“Great”

 

“I hope our conversations aren’t always going to be this stilted”

 

“I’ll practise making them interesting”

 

“Good idea, so sometime soon? I have practise tonight and tomorrow night so the day after?”

 

“Yeah, that’s fine for me”

 

“Great”

 

“Great”

 

“Alright I’m off before great starts sounding not like a word to me, see you soon”

 

“Bye” Louis hangs up and Harry leans forwards, rests his head in his hands and laughs a little breathily. He’ll have to ring Zayn later and thank him.

“Zayn what the fuck do I wear?”

 

“Harry this isn’t some cheesy high school movie, just wear whatever you want”

 

“But . . .”

 

“I don’t even know what you own these days”

 

“Then come over? Please, I’m about to pass out from nerves”

 

“You really don’t need to be so nervous”

 

“That doesn’t help at all!”

 

“Okay I’ll come over”

 

 

 

 

“You should recreate the look you wore the day you first met” Zayn says

 

“Fuck off, that was the worst”

 

“Louis didn’t seem to mind too much . . .”

 

“I mean his clothing choices were questionable too”

 

“All our outfits were dodgy”

 

“True”

 

“Scrap that idea then . . .” Zayn pads across the room and slides the wardrobe door open, he was always vaguely curious about where Harry kept his seemingly endless supply of clothes. “Maybe I should be here to help you have a wardrobe sort out instead”

 

“Hmm?” Zayn glances behind him to where Harry is uselessly flopped on the bed, very dangerously holding his phone above his face.

 

“Babe, please, I made the effort to come all the way here, can you at least help me out a little?”

 

“All the way here?” Harry leans up

 

“It was at least half an hour with traffic”

 

“Fame’s changed you Zayn” he gets up though

 

 

 

 

“This isn’t about what you wear at all is it?”

 

“I just . . . I’m worried nothing’s going to happen and that Louis just wants to try and be friends again. I’m not sure I want that”

 

“You can’t expect too much from him”

 

“I know” Harry runs a hand through his hair, “It makes me shitty I know but I just want what we used to have again”

 

“It doesn’t make you shitty . . .” Zayn says, “Just . . . hopeful”

 

“Hopeful? Don’t you think anything will happen?”

 

“I’m not Louis, I don’t know how he feels”

 

“I guess not, maybe this was all a bad idea”

 

“Stop, you’re going to go for fucks sake and if Louis just wants to try and be friends again then you’re going to take it because you’re not going to be a twat and leave him again, yeah?”

 

“Yeah, fuck, of course”

 

“Right, and if Louis does want something more, eventually maybe, then that’s good as well but don’t push anything”

 

“Yeah”

 

“Okay, try this on”

 

 

 

 

Zayn is lying in a discarded pile of shirts by the time Harry finally picks something out.

 

“Okay, I think this one”

 

“I swear to fuck if it’s the plain black one I’ll . . .” Zayn leans up to check what Harry’s wearing. He fiddles with the buttons, undoing one and then redoing it.

 

“Hoe, or no hoe?” Zayn snorts, “I’m being serious”

 

“‘Course you are” Zayn considers him, “Semi hoe, undo one more”

 

“Thanks”

 

“I’d sleep with you if it was me you were meeting”

 

“As much as that improves my self esteem I’m not after a quick hook up”

 

“I guess not” Harry sighs and sits down

 

“I’m still nervous” Zayn goes over and slides his arm around him.

 

“You’ll be fine, just go in there and be yourself and maybe try and look pretty and not spill food down yourself . . .”

 

“Your best friend skills are top notch”

 

“They always were” Harry shoves him gently.

 

“Thanks”

 

 

Louis doesn’t sing anymore and Harry remembers thinking at the time how much of a waste that was. Louis was never confident in his ability, even right up to before he left, even though he carried the solos and the times they tried to sing without him at rehearsals sounded sad and empty and Harry stopped them. He does something to do with football now because that was always his second biggest love in life and he was good with kids. He thinks it has something to do with letting kids who don’t have the best home lives but who have an interested in football, or maybe Harry’s making that up completely. Maybe Louis doesn’t even play football anymore. Maybe he took up golf like Niall even though he always joked in interviews that it was an old man’s sport. Harry wouldn’t know because he doesn’t know Louis anymore.

 

 

 

 

Harry thinks about the headlines in the taxi.

_Fangirls left in utter confusion over shock reconnection of One Direction members_

_Remember Larry Stylinson? Well maybe it’s more real than we thought_

_This is not the end: Harry and Louis seen together again_

He likes the last one the most, he was always a little sad he wasn’t around for the last album; it was by far the best one. Not that he has anything against the other ones, no matter how terrible the songs are or now bad the lyrics were to sing they’re still special. They still got them where they are now, or where they were, when Harry decided to leave them.

 

Louis is stood outside, cigarette in hand, texting with the other. He’s cleaned up his look from the pictures Harry’s seen of him, doesn’t wear tracksuits as much anymore. It doesn’t surprise him really though since they always tried to push an image onto him he wasn’t entirely fond of.

 

“Hi” Harry’s half waves lamely and Louis pretends to not see, just smiles and stubs out the last of his cigarette.

 

“Hey, let’s go in”

 

 

 

“I don’t understand why you don’t hate me still,” Harry says once they’re sat with their drinks. The bar isn’t too fancy, not too pretentious either, and Harry thinks it’s exactly the type of place Louis would have picked back in the day and maybe some things haven’t changed. Louis snorts.

 

“Bit hard-hitting that, isn’t it?” Harry shrugs

 

“I thought I’d get it out of the way, don’t want to spoilt things later on”

 

“Oh?” Louis raises an eyebrow

 

“Fuck off” Louis laughs although he's more serious when he looks back across at Harry, “It’s been too long” Louis picks up his drink, “Like, if this was, say, even a few years ago I wouldn’t be here because it would’ve been too soon. But slowly, and I mean slowly, I started to realise that maybe I didn’t hate you so much because I understood why you had to do what you did.” Louis frowns, “Did that make sense?”

 

“I think so” Louis puts his drink down without having any. They’re quiet for a moment and Harry glances around to check whether they’re getting attention, they’re not.

 

“Bit strange this” Louis says noticing Harry looking around and doing the same, “The fact we’re here, together”

 

“Yeah I guess so” Harry looks back across at Louis because this is more than a little strange it’s almost unbelievable. Almost as if Louis is going to get up and laugh at him, that it’s all just some joke to get back at how badly he fucked things up for them, as payback for everything awful he did a few years ago. “Niall doesn’t like me much” Harry says instead and because he needs to tell someone.

 

“He was pretty beat up about the whole thing” Louis says with a frown, “Took it pretty hard”

 

“I didn’t want things to end badly between us . . .”

 

“At the same time it was pretty naïve to think you could have just left us like that and for things to be normal between us”

 

“Yeah”

 

“Let’s not talk about that though, I’m too tired for anything hard-hitting just now”

 

“Tough day?”

 

“It’s the coaching, I love it don’t get me wrong, but some of the kids are so terrible at football, it’s a struggle to get them to kick the ball let alone be half decent. I mean, it’s all about having fun at the end of the day” Louis smiles, “You should come down one day, see what we get up to, it’s good”

 

“Yeah, I’d like that”

 

“I’ll text you the address, since I have your number now and all”

 

“One of them” Harry is famous for having multiple phones. One time they were considering having a phone where the only numbers were each other’s to cut down on the amount of awkward texts sent to the wrong person. They both still remember the time Louis had sent the pictures to Liam’s mum . . .

 

“One of them” Louis repeats with a small smile on his face.

 

“Do you want another drink?” Harry gestures towards Louis’ nearly empty glass. Louis shrugs and holds up the glass for Harry to take as he stands up.

 

“Go on then, you’re a bad influence on me, I’m trying to give it up”

 

“Give what up, having fun?”

 

“Hey, you weren’t the one who had the ‘lads night out’ image for years, it probably played heck to my liver”

 

“You’re getting old Tomlinson” Louis huffs but smiles

 

“So are you”

 

“So, the same?” Harry asks and Louis nods

 

“Yeah, thanks”

 

 

 

 

 

Harry rings Zayn in the taxi back home and the instinct to do so is a little strange and unfamiliar but not unwelcome.

 

“How was it?”

 

“Good, I had fun”

 

“But?”

 

“There’s no but . . .”

 

“You’re a shitty liar for someone who does so much lying”

 

“It was too good” Harry says, “It was like nothing had happened as we were back in 2014 again and we’re going to move onto the next concert tomorrow and I didn’t fuck everything up”

 

“And that’s bad because?”

 

“I just regret . . .” Zayn sighs

 

“Look Harry, having regrets is the shittiest thing you can do to yourself because you can’t change anything so just go from here and make things work out between you”

 

“Yeah, fucking hell, why are you always so _right_?” Zayn only laughs

 

 

 

_It’s just over a year after he leaves the band when he releases his first album. He checks through twitter a few hours after it’s released to see people’s reactions. Some people are unsure about his new sound, and obviously there are comparisons to One Direction which are slightly hard to read but it’s mostly positive._

_Nick is still presenting the breakfast show and he goes on to talk about it._

_“So, obvious comparisons to One Direction, people say it’s too different . . .”_

_“It is different, but I wanted it to be . . .”_

_“Of course you did . . .”_

_“Putting this record out there doesn’t mean I hated the band or the guys or what we were doing, I just wanted to make something that was my own, you know? I didn’t leave the band because I_ hated _it . . .” Harry pauses because that’s maybe not entirely true and he’s not even sure why the left the band sometimes and Nick sees his frown and the way he stumbles over his words and swiftly moves on._

_“We’ll play the track now and then take some questions from the fans . . .”_

 

 

 

**June**

_Harry chooses his first solo interview carefully. It can’t be something tacky where his words will be changed and it’s like he needs to prove himself or something, show that he's more than who One Direction made him. In the end he chooses some obscure music magazine they publish every three weeks just to be extra quirky or something in Manchester. He talks about One Direction, of course, about how the past 4 years were incredible but suffocating and he’s ready for a change. He hates that the media are right, that he’s the first one to leave, and that he does want a solo career but he doesn’t hate the band like they say, not really anyway. How can he hate something as incredible as what they had?_

 

_I loved everything about being in One Direction so I can’t answer that. He always says the same thing when they ask him if he left because he hated the band, or because he wanted to pursue real music._

“Okay so I know why things are weird between me and Louis, but why are things weird between you and Louis too, between all of you really?” Zayn sighs.

 

“Look, things didn’t exactly end well for us” Harry frowns and mutes the TV, doesn’t think he wants to have this conversation while Jeremy Kyle is shouting at someone for fucking up their life.

 

“Why?” Zayn laughs a little harshly.

 

“You’re not dumb, why do you think? You left us and we had to adapt to losing you and all the shitty feelings attached to that but also the practical things, like changing who sang parts of the songs and not having you there on stage and us having to make up for that. I guess things just never quite felt the same . . . when we finished we’d promised the break wouldn’t be for long, a year max, but I think we knew it was all lies. We didn’t, couldn’t, have come back feeling like we did” Harry knew, he knew things would be hard for everyone, he just didn’t know how actually difficult they would find it.

 

“I didn’t know that” Harry says uselessly

 

“Yeah, well, you couldn’t” the silence drags on but Harry isn’t ready to turn the TV back on, wants to say something, anything, that can make this better, “I never blamed you because I knew, we all did really, because we were all going through the same things. I just wished you’d talked to us about it, then at least we could’ve been more prepared, you know?”

 

“Yeah, I regret that a lot”

 

“There’s no point regretting anything, you can’t change anything. In fact this whole conversation is pointless really . . .”

 

“Do you want to make things good between you and Louis again though?”

 

“Harry . . .”

 

“No, just answer, please”

 

“I guess, maybe . . .”

 

“We should try then”

 

“Not now though” Zayn says and unmutes the TV, a woman is shouting at a man for maybe not being the father of her baby and it’s comforting almost, to know that other people have problems, that they’re not the only ones who screwed up their lives.

 

 

 

 

_“Lou?” Louis hums and sets his phone aside, pushing the covers back further because it’s far too warm and he hates not being able to sleep._

_“Yeah love?”_

_“Do you ever think about how things would be so easy if you’d never auditioned?” Harry asks carefully and he frowns as if he doesn’t like what he’s saying and Louis is a little surprised except not really, not at all, because Harry’s been feeling off recently no matter what he tries to tell the others._

_“Not really” Louis answers, “What would be the point? We’re here now”_

_“I guess yeah”_

_“But you have” Louis says and Harry nods._

_“A little” Louis turns to his side and looks across at Harry. In the half light from where they haven’t shut the curtains yet Harry looks tired and Louis wishes he could fix these weird feelings Harry’s having, that he could make him happy with what they’re doing again. They both wish this was easier for them although, Louis thinks, no matter how hard this is he doesn’t wish for anything else because what they have is the stuff of fantasies and doesn’t happy to normal working class people from the north, doesn’t happen to people like him. Maybe Harry is spoilt and doesn’t appreciate this all as much as he should but Louis understands, it gets too much for them all sometimes._

_“What have you been thinking?” he prompts because even though he brought it up Harry doesn’t seem too eager to talk about it._

_“Just, when did everything get so . . . much?” he says lamely, “Like, when did this stop being fun and exciting and everything we thought it was going to be when we started?”_

_“I guess we’ve done it so many times it’s lost its spark”_

_“Yeah” Harry sits up and fumbles around on the bedside table until he finds a bobble, “Why is it so warm?” Louis shrugs and guesses the conversation is over._

_“Want me to?” he asks_

_“Please” Harry hands Louis the hair tie and turns around. Louis doesn’t have a brush to hand and it’s too warm for him to be bothered to move so he runs his fingers through the tangles in Harry’s hair the best he can, apologises when Harry winces softly. He's better at this now, has had a lot of practise, and even if it takes him longer than it would Harry to just do it himself he likes it when Louis does it. Likes these small things which make him feel so cared for and loved and maybe they’re grossly in love bordering on cheesy sometimes he doesn’t care much because it’s all so painfully true._

_“Thanks” Louis sits back and Harry turns around to sit next to him, not exactly touching because his skin is already uncomfortably sticky and hot._

_“Want to put the TV on? Don’t think I’m going to be able to sleep tonight”_

_“Because you’re too distracted by me?” Harry asks and Louis rolls his eyes._

_“Sure love, keep telling your ego that”_

_“Will do, gotta have something to keep me big headed” Louis pushes him gently and flicks the TV on, turning the sound down because it’s late and they’re polite. Sometime into some terrible film Louis has fallen asleep and Harry flicks the TV off and settles down next to him._

 

 

 

Louis texts him the address and tells him to wear something warm. He’s sat on the wall outside, wearing a tracksuit, smoking when Harry arrives.

 

“Why are you wearing that?” Louis asks when he’s in earshot.

 

“What?”

 

“Harry, you’ve come to a training session wearing jeans and boots, and not football boots”

 

“I was out” Harry protests, “You’ll have to give me more warning next time plus I wasn’t expecting to actually do anything” Louis shakes his head

 

“Well you can’t now”

 

“Were you planning on me doing?”

 

“Maybe”

 

“It’d probably be like, guys everyone watch Harry and do the exact _opposite_ of everything he’s doing” Louis laughs and reaches into his pocket to hand Harry a cigarette. “Isn’t this a bag influence on the kids?”

 

“We’re early, I always get here early, plus I wanted to make sure you got here before we started”

 

“Hey, you were the one who was always late to everything”

 

“It was usually you making me late though”

 

“Not all the time”

 

“Most of the time though, I always found it so hilarious when people thought you were some innocent cupcake or something” Harry sits down next to Louis.

 

“I can still be a cupcake though right?”

 

“Sure, you can never eat cake again though”

 

“Damn”

 

“You’ll have to spectate”

 

“I’m fine with that”

 

“You just don’t want to do any exercise”

 

“Fuck off, I went to the gym yesterday when was the last time you went?”

 

“You know I hate the gym”

 

“Yeah, not when I was with you though”

 

“Once again, that’s because you were distracting and most of the time we weren’t doing much exercise”

 

“No I guess not” in the end Louis said he was only going to the gym with Niall because then he’d actually do something other than watch Harry. Louis checks his watch.

 

“They’ll be getting here soon, come on, I’ll show you around”

 

 

 

 

“We work with local football clubs, get some of their coaches in every month, they scout some of the kids if they’re good enough”

 

“Are they generally good enough?”

 

“Look, if you’ve come here to poke fun at my coaching skills . . .”

 

“Wouldn’t dream of it”

 

“Sure” Louis says but he smiles and Harry knows he’s not being serious. He’s still a little scared, scared to push Louis too far too fast and for things to go wrong between them again. “It’s only our second real year anyway, the first didn’t count, and we’re getting better each year”

 

“Give it till 2050 then . . .”

 

“Cheeky bugger . . .”

 

 

 

“Louis, who’s this?” one of the kids who’s first out onto the pitch from the changing rooms asks looking at Harry and frowning.

 

“This is Harry, he’s going to be seeing what we do”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because he wants to”

 

“Is he from one of the football clubs?”

 

“No, but that doesn’t mean you can all slack of today”

 

“But I’m tired, I had maths today” the kid whines

 

“Oh no, not _maths_ ”

 

“Actually I’m good at maths, I still don’t like it though”

 

“I never liked it either” some of the kids are terrible, even worse than him Harry thinks but Louis keeps trying, taking more time to show them how to do things properly and pairing them up with the better kids. They end the session with a mini game where Louis lets Harry have control over the whistle.

 

“Don’t let it go to your head” Louis says handing it over

 

“It went to my head years ago”

 

“I’m sure it did”

 

 

 

It’s 9pm by the time they’re done tidying up and Louis had to witness Harry wresting with a dozen footballs while he watched on laughing.

“Haven’t you had enough experience with balls in your life?”

 

“Good to see you’ve matured in our time apart”

 

“Sure, I’ve got Antiques Road show on record, we can watch it sometime if you’d like”

 

“I always liked older men . . .” Louis snorts and finally helps Harry out and goes to retrieve a stray football. It’s almost awkward when they head to the car park together and Harry’s not sure what to suggest. He fumbles with his keys attached to his belt loop and Louis fiddles around with his phone.

 

“Want to come back to mine? I can show off my decorating skills” Louis asks, taking a few steps towards his car as if Harry’s going to say no or something.

 

“Sure, I’ve got to get my weekly antiques fix somehow”

 

 

 

“Sorry about the mess” Louis says, pushing the front door open and searching through his letters on the floor.

 

“You’re finally living out your student life dream then?”

 

“Yeah, I even had pasta for breakfast this morning”

 

“I’m not even surprised” Harry puts his coat on the banister and follows Louis down the hall.

 

“Want some tea? Or something stronger?”

 

“Tea’s fine” Louis nods and Harry follows him down the hallway to the kitchen. It’s impressive really, perhaps a little unnecessarily cluttered with things Harry hasn’t even heard of before, but the black surfaces are nice. Harry says as much.

 

“To be fucking honest I don’t even know why I’ve got this fancy shit in here, I still can’t cook . . .” Harry looks around, goes over to a square box with multiple buttons. “It’s supposed to cook perfect burgers” Louis shrugs, “Can’t say anything about the useful ness of it”

 

“Moving in presents?”

 

“Mostly yeah” Louis opens a very disorganised cupboard filled with boxes of tea. “Want something fancy or normal?”

 

“Um, normal is fine” Louis nods and has to take out at least six boxes before he finds a small box of normal tea bags at the back.

 

“Louis, has it occurred to you that you might have a _small_ problem?”

 

“Hey, don’t question my ability to drink tea yeah? It’s a skill” Louis makes the tea and sits down opposite Harry at the table. “Why are you here Harry?” Harry frowns, “And I don’t mean it in the obvious way, I know why you’re _here_ , I invited you round. I mean, why are you here now, with me again? What does this mean?”

 

“What do you want it to mean?” Harry asks carefully and Louis sighs, sets his mug aside

 

“I suppose I want it to mean everything it was before . . .”

 

“Before I fucked things up” Harry says and Louis nods, “Can it be like that again?” Louis turns to face him

 

“You’re not going to leave me again are you? This isn’t nothing is it?”

 

“No, fucking hell no” Louis nods

 

“Then this is us trying to make things work out between us again”

 

“I suppose it is” Louis smiles and heads towards the door, gestures that Harry should follow.

 

“I can’t promise the front room is much tidier but . . .”

 

_Harry’s hungover when he finds out. He tried to chase the ache in his head away with a tablet and a glass of water but the water only made him feel sick and he fell back asleep for an hour._

_Nominees:_

_Harry Styles_

_There’s a bunch of names he can’t even focus on because at the bottom it just says One Direction and it’s like the people who made this list are playing a joke on him because why? If he goes to the awards ceremony, which he really should, he’s bound to bump into the others because that’s just the kind of luck he has. And if he doesn’t go then the media will have a field day, heck they probably already are. The news isn’t helping his aching head or the sickness which has made a sharp return and he goes to lie down for a while because he’s nothing short of dramatic and he didn’t cook breakfast only to throw it up again._

_It’s his first awards show without the band and he feels a little lost on the red carpet without someone to put their arm around his waist. He stands and half smiles for the pictures, takes a few pictures with the fans, before getting inside swiftly._

_He reaches for another drink because no one is there to tell him not too. If the others were here he wouldn’t need to because he wouldn’t feel as nervous and things wouldn’t seem as weird. The band has been on a break for 9 months and he’s still no quite used to not having them around. It’s not that he was co-dependant on them but having them around at awards made him feel better. Harry might have his second home on the stage but there’s something about the vulnerability of being alone in front of a crowd and the flashing cameras that he isn’t used to yet. The wine is horrible but he forces it down anyway._

_Harry wants to win only because he likes winning. He’s always been competitive and there’s an awful part of him that really wants to beat the others, as if he needs to prove to himself and everyone that leaving the band was worth it, that he’s better for it or something._

_Harry stopped drinking a while ago because he didn’t want to embarrass himself if he won by going up on stage and slurring his way through an acceptance speech. Not that he has one planned, he’ll just thank everyone, say something about the band, the others and sit back down._

_“Winner of Male Solo Artist goes to . . . Harry Styles”_

_“Winner of Best British Band goes to . . . One Direction”_

_They look strange onstage without him, the four of them, although Harry thinks they look good, especially Louis and his heart hurts a little and he looks away. It’s strange when he goes onstage alone, not to have to thank Simon or anyone, freeing, very freeing, but still, it doesn’t feel quite right somehow. The others thank him of course, and the fans, they always thanks the fans. Louis laughs at something Zayn says on their way offstage, as they’re heading back to their table on the opposite side of the room and for a moment Harry wishes more than anything that he was back with them again. It’s horrible almost to have to go up alone._

_Later he’s in a queue for the bar because they never have enough staff on and he’s considering just leaving because he’s not in the mood really._

_“Congratulations I suppose” Zayn says quietly with a half smile twisting his lips._

_“Thanks” Harry says automatically because it’s all he’s been saying all evening. Harry’s brief acceptance speech was mainly just a stream of thank yous with special thanks to the fans who’ve stuck with him throughout. “Congratulations to you too” it’s just over a year since he left the band and Zayn has a new hairstyle but it’s all so painfully familiar still. Zayn nods and they lull into a strange silence. Harry desperately wants to say something but can’t think of what which won’t sound horrible and fake and empty._

_“I heard your song on the radio for the first time yesterday” Zayn says as they step forwards slightly._

_“Oh?” Zayn nods again, checks up front to see what the hold up is._

_“It was alright, kind of what I expected”_

_“Thanks” Zayn shrugs_

_“Think I’ll give this a miss, fucking ridiculous, see you around though yeah?”_

_“Yeah” Harry smiles and Zayn’s gone, sliding through the crowd. He gets his drink and goes to sit back down painfully aware of how very alone he is without the others there._

_He goes to some after party and lets some friend of a friend he vaguely remembers kiss him in the bathroom while the music is loud outside. Their hands are gentle on his side and Harry would go back with them if he thought they could make him feel better but the ache in his chest is too much and he goes to get a drink instead._

 

 

Harry hasn’t written anything he thinks is decent in nearly a year. He used up the last of whatever creativity he had on his last album and even that only had eight songs on it because he didn’t want to put anything out that wasn’t sincere and his sincerity could only stretch to eight and even that was a push. It was easy at first, writing, since leaving the band and Louis made everything feel so much more raw and he actually had experiences to write about rather than faking. It’s been too long now though, for him to still be writing the same broken hearted shit he was writing at the start.

 

 

“So, where are we going?” Harry asks when they’re heading towards Louis’ car,

“Am I dressed appropriately?” Louis looks him over and smiles

 

“Yeah, you’re fine”

 

“So, come on, don’t keep me waiting”

 

“I had this idea that we could go to a concert, only we just go and buy tickets on the door and it has to be someone we don’t know anything about” Harry considers him for a moment.

 

“Is this one of those tumblr things, like you always used to look at?”

“I mean I may have been having the occasional search”

 

“A cheeky little search?”

 

“Right that’s it” Louis holds his hands up, “I’m out, you just said cheeky and I lost all respect for you”

 

“I’m a catch for sure”

 

“Keep telling yourself that because then at least someone thinks you are . . .”

 

“Fuck off”

 

“This is my car”

 

“You’re the worst Tomlinson”

 

“I’m fucking _gold_ ”

 

“Maybe” Louis smiles

 

“So, the band thing?”

 

“Yeah, sure, let’s go for it. Beats seeing a crappy movie after all”

 

 

 

 

The band sounds like pretty much every other indie band they play on the radio and it’s good. The lead singer is a little pretentious, walks around wearing a leopard coat with tracksuit bottoms on and Louis has to poke Harry and give him a look lest he get any ideas for more boundary pushing fashion choices although he’d support him anyway, probably. They’re popular with the crowd, who are mostly wearing turtlenecks and stripy shirts, and it’s mildly awkward how they don’t know any of the lyrics but they stay near the back until one of their more popular songs comes on and Louis thinks if they’re going to do this they have to do it properly.

 

“Come on, let’s get stuck in”

 

“What?” Harry leans in closer to hear him. Louis just tugs on his hand and manoeuvres them through a wall of people into the thick of things.

 

 

 

“I had fun tonight” Harry says when he’s cut the engine and Louis looks across at him

“Yeah, I did too” he might have kissed Louis once, if he could still do things like that, if he thought they’d worked up to that.

 

“I’d forgotten what you looked like dancing”

 

“I could never forget something like that,” Louis says with a laugh and his hand rests briefly on his side, “It’s certainly something”

 

“Hey, it’s better than being boring”

 

“Of course love”

 

“Do you remember that night when we were in Spain or something and Niall bought all that tequila and Zayn was off his face he put the Birdie song on and we only stopped because that guy three floors down complained?”

 

“Oh my fucking . . .” Louis breaks off to laugh, “ _Yes_ , fucking Zayn . . .” making Louis laugh and hear him is so _nice_. “Didn’t Liam nearly fall off the bed?”

 

“Yeah, he was going pretty hard”

 

“He always does”

 

“Yeah, do you talk to him much?”

 

“Occasionally, not enough though”

 

“Yeah” they fall into silence and Harry rests his hand on the door handle. “I

should . . .”

 

“Yeah, yeah . . .” Louis smiles, “I’ll text you yeah? Maybe buy some tequila and download the birdie song”

 

“You mean you don’t already have it?”

 

“It’s my top played song, how could I have forgotten?”

 

“What’s number two, the crazy frog song?”

 

“Nah, that’s your theme song”

 

“True” Harry nods and Louis laughs softly and winds his window down a little and Harry actually gets out of the car.

 

“Bye”

 

“Bye”

 

_When he was 16 and the most important part about having a girlfriend was the sex Harry didn’t really think about love much. He thought he loved his first girlfriend because she had nice hair and made him laugh and they went on dates to the cinema and held hands and one time she slept over and although they didn’t do anything more than kiss it was nice._

_Harry loved his family, obviously, and his cat. He thought he was in love with his first girlfriend and maybe he was in love with the moment when Simon kissed him at some party of a friend of a friend he wasn’t even invited to but he’s sure he’s never been in love before, until he meets Louis. They laugh about it when they find out they’ve been to the same concert but it plays on Harry’s mind that it’s more than that, that it’s more than chance that they’ve both auditioned this year. He tells Louis when his heart is hammering in his chest and they’re alone in bed together not doing anything other than lying close together and he needs something to distract him from his desire to turn over and kiss Louis even though he's sure Louis would touch him gently and kiss back._

_When he was 16 and before he met Louis Harry didn’t know what love was. Louis made his heart bang against his chest and his skin sticky at night when they’re lying pressed against each other because he's never done anything like this before. He needs Louis because although he's only a few years older he seems so much more, seems like he understands when Harry can only blindly follow._

_They all look up to Louis because he's the oldest and that seems to mean he understand this better than they do even though it’s still as new to him and it is to them. Louis embraces his role though and takes the lead on everything when they’re a little unsure or shy or scared and Harry loves that about him so much, how he puts everyone before himself and he wishes he could say something to Louis that could express everything he feels about him but every time he tries to think of something it’s gross and cheesy and not enough to really explain things._

_It’s sometime into the tour and they’re up early and Harry looks over to where Louis is making a cup of tea with the tiny kettle they always have in hotel rooms and he’s saying something about buying his own kettle to bring with him wherever they go and Harry nearly says something about how he’s not sure airport security would like that but he doesn’t._

_“I think I love you Louis”_

_“Hm?” Louis stills with the kettle in hand and Harry blushes furiously and ruffles his fringe_

_“Nothing”_

_“No, that’s not nothing”_

_“I’m sorry”_

_“What for?” Louis asks gently and sometimes Louis’ babying is annoying and Harry huffs that he's not a kid, that he can take care of himself before promptly snuggling back into Louis’ side and Louis says nothing._

_“I think Niall just texted” Harry says ridiculously, reaching for his phone on the bedside table, “Oh yeah, we’ve got to . . .” Louis puts the kettle down and gets back on the bed, takes hold of Harry’s hand._

_“I hope you were being serious because I think I love you too” Harry looks across at Louis, suddenly afraid Louis will laugh and he’ll have to laugh too and pretend this is all some big joke while his heart aches. Louis doesn’t though and Harry’s throat is tight._

_“Oh” Louis laughs and pulls Harry in for a hug which is far less scary than a kiss right now and Harry loves how he knows exactly what he needs._

_“Did Niall actually text you?”_

_“It was Liam actually, he said we should go get breakfast before we go”_

_“Good plan, I’ll get better tea there” Harry reaches for Louis’ hand tentatively in the lift downstairs and Louis smiles at him so brightly he doesn’t let go until they reach the foyer._

 

 

 

_Their tour sells out so quickly and they’re all still a little overwhelmed by it all that they can’t quite believe it when they’re told. Their fans might be a little scary sometimes but they can’t deny they’re passionate about supporting them through everything and they’re grateful to that even though sometimes they don’t act like it because it’s late and they’ve been working too hard and the last thing they want to do is meet them. They try, they try not to seem shitty and ungrateful but sometimes they reason, it’s okay for them to not be perfect._

 

_The problem, always, was that it was too much too soon and he couldn’t remember how to breathe. How to be anyone apart from Harry Style from One Direction, that band that held the world in their palms. It was too much fame and money and pressure and he shouldn’t have been so sad and lonely in hotel rooms at night because he could do anything, except he just didn’t. He sent Louis out to clubs to get drunk and dance pressed against strangers with the thrum of the music and the taste of infinite possibility on his tongue. Louis liked being famous if only so he could get into clubs with far too expensive drinks and girls he might have slid his arm around and kissed on the lips if he didn’t have Harry waiting for him. Louis comes back late and sometimes Harry’s still awake, waiting for him, and other times he isn’t. Things are okay though, they’re okay, because they’re realised that they can’t change what people think about them, about their carefully fabricated public façade, when they know they get to wake up next to each other and for that to be okay for now._

_“Did you have fun?” Harry will always ask when Louis slides the key-card into the lock with varying degrees of quietness comes to bed. Sometimes Louis is dunker than others and all Harry gets out of him is giggles and nonsense answers and he just kisses his cheek and gets him to sleep it off. Other times Louis has only had a few drinks and they sit up half watching the TV and Louis will occasionally start to say something about the unfairness of this all until Harry touches his side gently and he’ll sigh and apologise._

_“Just, kiss me instead?” and Louis will. His fingers light against Harry’s jaw, before he curls his fingers around his skull, Harry’s curls soft against his skin and their lips pressed together so perfectly. They spend less and less time being angry or sad or frustrated about things because Harry wants them to, because they’ve finally learned that it isn’t going to change things and bad nights only end in them arguing._

_“I love you” Louis will say gently when they’re going to sleep and their limbs are one under the covers and nothing Louis can ever say will be enough for his heart._

_“I love you too,” Harry says back although it’s mumbled and half asleep and Louis pets at his hair until he’s out._

 

 

 

“The kids hate how it’s called the mini league” Louis says, “Says it makes them feel less significant”

 

“I get that”

 

“It’s a pretty big deal for us though, today, if we win there’s a chance of us getting more funding for next year, it’d be good to expand the programme a bit, you know? Get more kids involved, get as many involved as want to”

 

“Why didn’t you try and do this professionally?” Harry asks, not because he doesn’t think what Louis is doing is good, only because he knows how much Louis used to love being on the pitch, playing instead of stood on the side lines.

 

“What, football?”

 

“Yeah, you were pretty good weren’t you?”

 

“I mean, yeah, I guess . . .”

 

“So, why didn’t you?”

 

“I don’t know . . .” Louis frowns, “I guess I thought I’d like coaching more”

 

“And do you?”

 

“Yeah, yeah I really do. I like being there for the kids, it’s exactly the kind of thing I’d have liked growing up”

 

“Yeah, it seems like they have fun”

 

“Yeah, they do”

 

“You don’t . . . regret it though, do you?”

 

“Regret what?”

 

“Not trying to make it professionally”

 

“No, I mean, there were times . . . but no, this what I want to do”

 

“Well I’m glad”

 

“So, we should probably do that awkward, first date out to dinner thing” Louis says

 

“Lou, we’ve . . .” only Harry has to stop because the realisation hits him that no, they’ve never actually been out to dinner together, just the two of them, before and it’s completely ridiculous really. “Fuck, we haven’t”

 

“Nope” Louis shakes his head, “So come on then, where do you recommend? You know some fancy places right?”

 

“I suppose . . .”

 

“Don’t get coy on me now Styles, find me somewhere fancy to eat”

 

“How fancy is fancy?”

 

“Surprise me”

 

 

 

They’re in the taxi round the corner from the restaurant when Harry stops Louis from getting out with a hand to his wrist.

 

“Maybe we should just stay in instead? You still like Indian takeaway right? That place near where we used to . . .” Louis smiles at him gently.

 

“Sure I do, it’s nice, but this will be too. You don’t have to be nervous . . .”

 

“It’s just, like, a big thing for us . . .”

 

“So, it has to happen sometime. It might as well be now” Louis takes his hand,

 

“Come on, it’ll be fine”

 

 

It’s _fancy_ fancy and Louis is glad he thought to wear his smart blazer even if he is wearing a t-shirt underneath and he probably looks a little dressed down compared to Harry but he always looked far too dressed up compared to the rest of them when he was in the band and that was okay. Their table is in the middle of the restaurant and Harry hesitates a little when the waiter shows it to them but it’s a full house so they don’t really have a choice.

 

“I’m starting to think we should have gone to KFC instead,” Harry says looking the menu over.

 

“Don’t you eat out anymore?” Louis asks, surprised.

 

“Not really”

 

“Why? That was always such a you thing to do, you were always going places with people”

 

“Yeah, I guess . . .” Louis goes back to reading the menu and they lapse into a brief silence.

 

“I swear the bit they write in the foreign language could say anything and no one would know. Like, you’re a fucking dick, have a nice day and underneath they write “squid” in English”

 

“What about the people who can read it?” Harry points out

 

“They have a right old laugh at the people pretending to be fancy, thinking it says squid when really it says dick” Harry laughs

 

“If it doesn’t say dick then I’m going to be severely disappointed”

 

 

They order, and when Harry’s looked around a few times to see that everyone appears to be more interested in their own nights, he seems to relax.

 

“I hope I ordered the squid”

 

“You mean the dick?”

 

“That can wait until the next date”

 

 

 

Louis orders a desert and the presentation is far too spectacular for what is essentially a brownie.

 

“Well, I guess that’s why it’s nearly £30” Louis says, his spoon hovering over his plate, “Should I take a picture first”

 

“I mean, it’s probably not the ‘done thing’ here, but if you’re quick . . .” Louis pulls his phone out and gets a quick shot.

 

“Okay, at least I can remember what I spent money on now . . .” Louis promptly destroys the careful presentation and spoons half the brownie into his mouth.

 

“Hm, pretty good”

 

“Looks it”

 

“You regret it now, don’t you?”

 

“What?”

 

“Pretending to be _sophisticated_ and having _desert wine_ when you could have had brownie”

 

“I’ll have you know this wine is exceptional, perfect texture . . .”

 

“Texture?”

 

“Sure, everything has texture right?”

 

“Here, have some fucking brownie before you bore me with your mildly tipsy philosophical talk about _texture_ ”

 

“If you’re offering . . .”

 

“I defiantly am” Louis slides his plate over. “You can finish it if you want”

 

“Thanks” Harry finishes the desert and when he’s done Louis rests his hand on Harry’s lightly.

 

“Lou, someone could see . . .” Harry tries to pull his hand away but Louis holds on.

 

“We don’t have to worry anymore love, we can do whatever” he says, “We’re not pretending to be something we’re no anymore”

 

“Oh, yeah” the realisation is so strong and Harry realises that he doesn’t have to worry about what anyone says because they can say whatever and it doesn’t mean anything. Harry lets out a relieved bark of laughter, covering his mouth afterwards with his free hand and Louis smiles at him and rubs his thumb over his hand.

 

“We can do everything we never could” and it’s painfully true and Harry could lean over the table and kiss Louis and they can be seen out together going to the shop and it’s everything they always wanted and it’s almost overwhelming.

 

 

 

They pay the frankly ridiculously overpriced bill and Louis calls a taxi outside.

 

“15 minutes, I guess it _is_ Friday . . . “ Louis sighs and leans back against the wall, talking even though Harry isn’t listening. “So what do you think?” Louis asks

 

“Hm, what?”

 

“About the state of current politics, I mean, are you satisfied that who you voted for is ‘doing your country proud’?”

 

“ _What_?” Louis giggles

 

“You spaced out, as important as politics is . . . what’s up?” Harry looks at Louis and shakes his head.

 

“I don’t know, I just really missed you” and with that Louis kisses him, his hand resting gently on his side. It’s nothing really, their lips pressed together before they’re apart again, but it makes Harry’s head swim with feelings. Louis looks almost shy when Harry looks across at him and he’s not sure how he could be anywhere else apart from here, with Louis again.

 

“I missed you too” Harry pulls Louis back against him and presses their lips back together desperately scared that if they don’t then none of this means anything. His hands trace down his spine before resting on his lower back, pulling him impossible closer. Their breath mixes together and Harry doesn’t know how to be anyone other than who he is now, reliant on Louis’ touch. He licks into Harry’s mouth and pulls lightly on his hair and Harry can’t really think straight, can knows that having Louis here, like this, is enough for now.

 

 

 

 

“You should text Louis” Harry says picking the carrot out of his burger because, really, carrot? Zayn watches him amused.

 

“No so Mr Health now are you?”

 

“I never was, it was kind if irritating really”

 

“You should have tried to get yourself papped eating McFlurries everyday, or McDonuts”

 

“Is that a thing?”

 

“If it isn’t it should be” Zayn’s made it very clear that his favourite bakery product is doughnuts, much to Liam’s, who thought they were overrated, distaste.

 

“We’ll stop and check on the way home. Anyway, you should text Louis sometime” Zayn frowns

 

“Why?”

 

“Because . . .”

 

“It might crowd him if we’re both trying to fall back in love with him at the same time” Zayn points out, waving a broken chip around dangerously.

 

“Hey, I said nothing about love”

 

“You’re just worried I’m competition, that I’m cuter than you”

 

“I mean, yeah . . .” Zayn laughs

 

“Okay, I might do. Not yet though”

 

“Don’t want to crowd him?”

 

“Yeah, too much too soon and all”

 

“Yeah”

 

“Can I eat your carrot?” Harry smirks at him, “Get your head out of the fucking gutter, jeez . . .” Harry laughs and covers his mouth when it’s loud and Zayn shakes his head fondly and he _missed_ Harry.

 

“Sure” Harry says when he’s calmed down

 

“Thanks”

Harry goes home for a bit because he should really make more time to do so, it’s been too long again. It’s ironic really, since he has as much time as he wants now, how he doesn’t go home as much as he used to.

 

“I’m trying again,” he says, “Me and Louis are trying again” his mum looks over at him, surprised but happy.

 

“Are you sure this is what you both need, is this right for you?” Harry doesn’t pause.

 

“I think so” she smiles and that’s enough for Harry.

 

 

 

_I reckon it’s time we did it._ Harry frowns at Louis’ message, a little taken aback.

**Do what?**

_The horribly cliché cinema date of course._ Harry cringes a little thinking about Louis sitting there laughing at what Harry obviously thought the message was about.

**Alright then, but you’re not picking the film**

_Neither are you!_

**We have a problem then**

_I suggested it, that means I should have dibs_

**I’m the guest! That means I get to choose**

_Harryyyy!!!!!_

**LOuuuuuu**

_Fine, but if it’s boring I’m leaving with the popcorn_

**Shit, I’d better make sure it’s good then**

_You better fucking had xx_

 

It’s a far too long walk to the cinema from the car park, or so it seems as Harry’s already fifteen minutes late. Louis is stood outside.

 

“Hello stranger”

 

“Sorry” Harry says, “I . . .”

 

“Film starts in ten” Louis says, waving two tickets around

 

“Lou! You said I could pick!” Harry whines. Louis holds up the tickets again for Harry to inspect.

 

“These okay?” he's gone for the rom com. Harry beams.

 

“I wanted those”

 

“I knew you would, the guy on the poster was exactly the type you’d get heart eyed over”

 

“I do not get ‘heart eyes,’” Harry says indignantly.

 

“For hot male leads in terrible cheesy rom coms you do” Harry smack Louis playfully.

 

“Okay, maybe just a little”

 

“You want to get a snack?”

 

“I’m fine, but if you do . . .”

 

 

 

Louis does. He ends up getting sweets and popcorn and a slushy.

 

“You might have to help me with this” Louis says as they find their seats.. They’re early and there’s a lot of trailers. Louis eats his popcorn in handfuls, keeping the bag between them in case Harry wants some. Harry leans back in his seat, unbuttons the top few buttons of his shirt. People dress comfortably for the cinema for a reason after all.

 

“What’s this film even about?” Louis asks, he leans close so Harry can whisper back and Harry is aware of his breath on his skin and the soft fabric of his jacket.

 

“Not too sure” Harry answers, “It’ll probably include hot shirtless scenes and a breakup”

 

“And you think it’ll be a good film?”

 

“Well the artistic rating is questionable, but yeah” Louis retrieves his sweets and rustles around in the bag. He offers Harry something and he takes one.

 

 

They’re cliché and Harry snuggles into Louis’ side and Louis puts his arm round him until his arm goes numb. Harry dissolves into helpless giggles at something only mildly funny in the film and Louis tries to shush him between his own laughter. An old man says something rude in a whisper shout. Harry buries his face in Louis’ side.

 

 

 

“And that is why I don’t go to the cinema” Louis says. They’re the last to leave.

 

“Hey, I had fun, the film was great” Louis rolls his eyes. They’d nearly been kicked out until Harry had promised in his nicest voice and with his brightest smile that they’d watch the film in silence. The young attendant had rolled his eyes and walked away, clearly not being paid enough to care. A cleaner comes in and looks up at them.

 

“You have to leave soon,” he says.

 

“Yes, of course, sorry” Louis says quickly.

 

“Did you really not have fun?” Harry asks as they walk down the stairs. Louis pulls him close.

 

“Of course I did” Harry beams.

 

“I mean, you were with me, how could you not?”

 

“You’re far too sure of yourself”

 

_He thinks about them, small and naïve, on stage at the X factor being told they hadn’t got through and promising this wasn’t the end and wonders what would have happened if it was the end. He’d probably have gone home and finished school, gone to uni, facetimed Louis occasionally before things just stopped between them because long distance relationships never work out despite that people hope and what people say. He might have tried to make something work, posted a few covers on YouTube, maybe got famous through that. But it seems unlikely, he’d probably just be working a mediocre job right now because he was good at school but nothing special, he wasn’t about to be anything special. Except of course things didn’t work out like that and they got to have what they did._

 

 

 

Harry crashes unceremoniously into the taxi and pulls the door to, telling the driver the address. He sets off and Louis is a little too aware of how Harry never did learn to button his shirts properly and how even though it might not be so long anymore his hair is still exceptionally pretty and he leans over, slides a hand to Harry’s thigh, and kisses him. Harry is a little surprised but rests his hand on Louis’ waist and kisses back. Louis’s forgotten almost, but not quite, how much he loves kissing Harry. How well they always fit together, how Harry could always so easily make him come undone with just his mouth. Louis pulls away because even though the driver has probably seen the same and more he’s not sure he’s comfortable with that. Harry looks a little dishevelled already and Louis runs a hand through his hair to flatten it down.

 

“When we get back,” Louis says although it sounds more like a warning and Harry nods, eyes bright.

 

 

 

Louis shuts the door with his foot and presses Harry back against it, getting his mouth back against Harry’s. Harry’s hands roam over his skin and Louis pulls at Harry’s hair as if it can ground him somehow. Harry whines against his mouth and Louis uses the opportunity to slide his tongue inside. Harry rests his hands momentarily on Louis’ waist before sliding them downwards across his arse and Louis gasps when Harry presses a finger purposefully against his hole. He pulls back to look at Harry, skin flushed and lips parted and he's so desperate to fuck him it’s ridiculous, ridiculous how someone can make him feel like that, how Harry can still make him feel like this.

 

“Upstairs” Louis says, coughs when his voice sounds weird, his hand pressing down against his cock. Harry’s eyes follow his move and Louis is glad he’s just as needy.

 

“You’re not just going to fuck me and then leave are you though? This isn’t just a sex thing is it?” Harry asks and the question seems to surprise them both. There’s a kink in his hair from where Louis had his hand and Harry almost looks sorry to have asked and Louis shakes his head, touches his side gently.

 

“You left us remember?” he says because he has to, because he still thinks about that even now, even when they’re trying again.

 

“Yeah” Harry says softly and Louis hates that he said it. He smiles.

 

“I won’t do that” it’s reassuring because Harry nods, his breath hot on Louis’ skin and he leans forwards to kiss Louis again. It seems different though, it’s not the desperation and hunger from a moment ago. It’s almost like Louis needs to prove how much he wants this to work out for them and that Harry isn’t just going to run away again without even trying. His hands are gentle when they touch Harry and when they head upstairs Louis doesn’t let go of Harry’s hand. He sets Harry down carefully on the bed and climbs on after him. He finally sheds them of their clothes and looking down at Harry’s body, at his scattered tattoos that always meant so much to them again when he thought he never would makes his chest ache a little. He leans down to kiss Harry again because there was a time when he loved him so much it _ached_ sometimes and maybe they can get back to that again, because they want to and because perhaps they were always meant to be. His fingertips brush again Harry’s hipbones, across the ferns which were always a personal favourite of his.

“Do you . . ?” Louis asks stupidly because _of course_ Harry’s got stuff. He nods towards the bedside table and Louis hops off the bed, searches and comes back. He knocks Harry’s legs further apart and slicks a finger up quickly, his cock aching with need now. He presses in gently, slowly, because this is their first time doing this in years and it’s a little surreal and Louis kisses Harry again because he can and because he's got years worth of kisses to catch up on. He runs his other hand along Harry’s thigh, along his sides and stomach which he could never get rid of no matter how much he worked out. There was a time when he hated that so much and Louis hated how unhappy it made him, how he had to keep telling Harry that it just made him himself. He adds another finger, working a little clumsily because Harry’s mouth is a little distracting. He brushes up against Harry’s spot and he always loved the little noises Harry made when he did that. He does it again and Harry whines louder, hands scrabbling to touch Louis, to get him to do it again, to do more.

 

He presses in achingly slowly, watches Harry’s face, the way his hair is dark against the white sheets, his open mouth. He kisses Harry a little more tentatively and it’s all hopeful possibilities and maybes and that’s okay for now because they can work towards something more, something like what they used to have. The sounds Harry makes ring in his ears and he makes sure to look at Harry, to remember how good he looks like this.

 

 

 

He’s panting breaths when he collapses back against the mattress and Harry leans over him to smirk.

 

“Did you get unfit? We weren’t even properly going at it” Harry asks

 

“Can you not say stuff like ‘going at it’” Harry laughs, “And fuck you, I may have let myself go a little bit . . .”

 

“What about all the football you’ve been doing?”

 

“It’s coaching, I do a lot of standing around”

 

“We’ll have to do something about your level of fitness then won’t we?”

 

“Not right now though, _fucking hell_ ” Louis says breathing deeply and Harry only laughs.

 

 

 

Later they’re on the sofa and Louis is flicking through channels on the TV, scowling when all that’s on is crap.

 

“How can Sky have so much to offer yet there’s _nothing?_ ”

 

“I mean, you could choose a film,” Harry gestures over to where his selection of films is organised far neater than Louis’ are.

 

“No way, they’re all weird aren’t they? From when you were going through that phase, I remember you made me watch something foreign and they said nothing for half an hour, it was the most shitty thing I’ve ever seen” Louis prides himself on being distinctly uncultured. Harry shakes his head, leans over the back of the sofa to rest his head on Louis’ shoulder.

 

“They’re not all like that” Louis grumbles and gets up to find something. A while later Louis puts his film of choice on and slides back onto the sofa. It’s nice really, the way they so easily fit back together like it’s 2014 again and they’re on a break from tour, like there’s an invisible sign on Louis side which marks it out as Harry’s space. They don’t say much and they don’t have to and when Harry inevitably falls asleep halfway through the film Louis smiles at him fondly, glad, so, _so_ glad, they’re trying again.

 

“You were the only one of us who never did anything solo” Harry says as if he’s only just realised. Louis rolls over onto the side to look at Harry because he’ll never get tired of him, of seeing him sleepy and soft in the mornings or at night when they’re tired and everything seems funny and they should probably have gone to sleep a while ago. He shrugs

 

“Guess I didn’t want to”

 

“Why though? You always wrote the best lyrics, everyone thought that”

 

“I once read somewhere that you either have vocal talent or writing talent but you can’t have both, you’ll always be subpar if you try and have both” Harry looks at him so sadly then and Louis regrets saying anything

 

“Lou . . .”

 

“We’re not having this conversation”

 

“After everything, after it all, do you really still think you can’t sing?”

 

“There’s a reason we got put together, because we were shit solo”

 

“Do you think I’m shit?”

 

“Well of course not . . .”

 

“Well then, your argument in invalid”

 

“You have to say that, you love me”

 

“I have to say that because it’s true, I always told you you were good, so much

more than you think of yourself”

 

“It doesn’t matter though, you don’t understand, no matter how much people tell you it always just sounds empty, you think it can’t be true because you’ve been telling yourself the opposite your whole life. I’m sorry but I can’t change what I think” Harry shrugs, defeated. “Besides I like coaching too much to give it up now”

 

_Louis is out somewhere and he’ll come back in the early morning and wake Harry up and he’ll turn over, kiss him and tell him to sleep but to make sure he cleans his teeth first though. Louis will laugh and tell him he loves him and Harry will smile and make sure he gets changed and actually does clean his teeth and they’ll settle down pressed close and Louis will be asleep before Harry._

_“Have fun”_

_“I always do, although it’d be better if you were there”_

_“Go on, go” Harry hits his arse._

_“Cheeky”_

_“Aren’t I just” Louis just has to lean down and kiss him one last time though._

_“I’m going, I’m going,” he says with a laugh before Harry can say anything and he pulls the door open, waves and then he's gone. The room is always so quiet without Louis there and Harry texts Zayn, sees if he's busy and when he's not he goes to his room. Zayn’s room is always strangely neat after he’s used to the mess that’s their room because neither of them can ever be bothered to hang their clothes up._

_“Louis gone?”_

_“Yeah” Harry goes to the bed and settles down on his usual side even though that’s also Zayn’s preferred side. Zayn lies as close as humanly possible._

_“I mean, there’s all that space . . .” Harry says before he remembers, “Oh, sorry”_

_“It’s fine, I’m comfortable” Harry shifts down the bed a little and rests more comfortably against Zayn._

_“Me too now”_

_“Can I tell you something?”_

_“If it’s about how well Louis fucked you last night I can hold”_

_“It’s not, although for the record it’s always good”_

_“La, la, la not listening” Zayn sings, “Okay, serious now. Sure tell me”_

_“I don’t like being here anymore” Harry says bluntly_

_“What?” Zayn frowns_

_“I . . . I don’t like the songs we’re signing, I’m sick of the image we have to present, I’m just tired of it all. I’m sick of being Harry from One Direction, whoever he even is anymore because he certainly isn’t me” Zayn looks at him, “Please say something”_

_“Yeah, I get it, this isn’t what we signed up for except it is only we couldn’t have imagined it’d be this hard”_

_“I don’t want to sound . . . ungrateful or something”_

_“But . . .”_

_“But I’m just tired of pretending and lying because it’s exhausting and surely we deserve better than that?”_

_“Course you do, I get it must be harder for you and Lou, but I understand too. This isn’t exactly the kind of music I’d willing put out there” there’s a reason Harry’s talking to Zayn rather than Louis, because he knew he’d understand him like this._

_“Thanks”_

_“What for?”_

_“For just . . . being here” Zayn flicks the TV on and they find something in English and Harry settles against Zayn to watch it._

 

 

 

“You’ve kind of disappeared recently” Louis says, “I didn’t hear much about what you’ve been doing, not that I was actively searching mind”

 

“This would be a good thing to come back on though wouldn’t it? Back from oblivion with ex band mate Louis Tomlinson in tow” Louis snorts

 

“The fans would love that, they can finally stop thinking they’re crazy for believing we we’re a thing”

 

“I always liked that, how passionate they were about believing in us, it was nice”

 

“Yeah it was, it’ll be good to give them something back”

 

“We should be grossly loved up in public for their sake, lots of hand holding and _cute_ kisses . . .” Harry gives Louis a look

 

“Hey, I always start them off cute, you’re the one who takes them too far”

 

“I can’t help it” Harry says and it’d be rude not to kiss Louis since they’re talking about it and all.

 

“ _Harry_ ”

 

“What?”

 

“I have to leave for coaching soon, don’t start anything you’ll regret” Harry huffs and sits back up, “Later,” Louis promises

 

“Later isn’t now”

 

“I’ll make it worth the wait”

 

“Promise?”

 

“Promise”

 

 

 

 

_The shower shuts off and Louis doesn’t even bother moving from the bed to go annoy Harry while he’s trying to get himself ready. He sends Liam some annoying text messages instead, checks through twitter, likes a few football posts on instagram. Sometime later Harry comes back into the bedroom, his hair tucked neatly into a towel._

_“You off out tonight?” Louis asks even though he knows and Harry nods._

_“Yeah, it was planned so . . . got to I guess”_

_“Yeah” Louis frowns at his phone and Harry takes it off him gently and takes hold of his hands._

_“But you know how much I don’t want to”_

_“Even if you’ve got cake waiting for you” Harry pulls a face_

_“It’ll be rank, Nick will have bought it from that bakery he likes which I hate”_

_“And you’d_ obviously _know if it was a shit bakery or not of course”_

_“Of course” Harry smiles, “I used to . . . “_

_“I swear to fuck . . .” Louis kisses him instead. “Bring me some cake home though yeah?”_

_“I’ll try, you know what happens when you get drunk people around cake”_

_“What does happen?”_

_“Cake everywhere”_

_“You’re getting me wet by the way,” Louis says shifting away from Harry and his wet towel slightly_

_“Oh, sorry” Harry gets up and Louis kind of regrets saying anything. He sighs._

_“What’re you wearing?”_

_“Not sure”_

_“You’re not very prepared are you? It’s supposed to be your birthday celebration after all”_

_“Lou, can you just not, please”_

_“Not what?” Louis asks but it’s more tired sounding than angry and neither of them wants to make this into an argument, “Sorry”_

_“It’s fine”_

_“I’ll help you pick something out” Louis roots through their drawers which they tried to keep organised before it got too much effort and his lazy day shirts are muddled up with Harry’s fancy ones. Louis takes his time, trying to decide which one Harry will look most pretty in, which one he’ll enjoy seeing Harry in later on when he gets back. “What’re you feeling, black? Something more adventurous?”_

_“Whatever you think I don’t mind,” Harry says coming over, brush in hand, resting his hand lightly on Louis’ waist._

_“Need some help?” Louis just takes the brush off Harry anyway and pushes Harry to sit on the edge of the bed. It’s comforting somehow, being a part of Harry getting ready, almost like he’s not as excluded from things as he feels when Harry leaves without him. He’ll probably text someone, go out for a few drinks or something so he’s not stuck in alone and maybe someday that’s exactly what they can do for their birthdays. He thinks they’ve both had enough of birthday parties to last a lifetime._

_“I won’t be back too late”_

_“Stay out as long as you want, I’m going to go out as well”_

_“Oh, alright then”_

_“You know Nick will have something planned, will want you to go somewhere”_

_“I’ll expect the worst then” Louis catches Harry’s hand before he leaves, kisses him._

_“Have fun, yeah?”_

_“I wish you were coming . . .”_

_“Nope, we’re not doing that. You know I can’t and you’re going to have fun anyway alright?”_

_“Fine, fine” Harry grumbles and kisses Louis again, his hand sliding down his back to rest against his arse._

_“Baby please, as much as I’d love for you to not go you’re just stalling aren’t you?”_

_“I could just ditch . . .” Harry suggests_

_“Your own birthday party?”_

_“Yeah?” Louis kisses him again before pulling back and resting a hand against Harry’s chest lightly._

_“Get going, you never know I might have some spectacular birthday sex planned for another night”_

_“Do you?” Louis shrugs, “Lou . . .”_

_“You’re late” Louis says standing up and pulling Harry up too, leading him to the door and slightly shoving him through it. “Off, get going” Harry kisses him again and Louis pretends to huff but pets his cheek anyway._

_“Bye”_

 

 

 

_“So I guess we need to talk about how there’s 4 of you now instead of 5”_

_“Yeah, we support Harry’s decision because everyone should always do what’s best for them” Liam says_

_“Very diplomatic of you Liam” the interviewer says, “But what really happened?” Louis wants to laugh and shout at them because as if they’re really going to say. As if Louis can put into words how he feels about Harry leaving them like this._

_“Harry left because he needed to, there’s not much else to say,” he says with a note of finality and the interviewer looks at him closely for a second before nodding._

_“Well I hope he's doing good as well, so, the new single . . .”_

_“You okay?” Zayn asks afterwards_

_“Why wouldn’t I be?” Louis asks and he sounds cold and he doesn’t care. Everything has been shitty since Harry decided to leave them and he thinks he gets to act like a bit of a twat, just for a while._

_“I know you Lou, you don’t have to pretend . . .”_

_“I fucking hate Harry for doing this to us, to me” he says, “And I don’t want to talk about it anymore”_

_“Okay” Zayn sits down and leans against the wall and Louis follows, hands Zayn a cigarette silently. It’s weird not having Harry around and he guesses he just has to get used to it._

 

 

**October**

_“So, you two live together right?” the interviewer asks and Louis slides his arm easily around Harry’s shoulders. Smiles at him and then at the interviewer._

_“Yeah, we do” Harry leans into him slightly and it’s all so nice and easy and it seems unthinkable that there will be times, time coming sooner than they’d like, when they won’t be allowed to do this. When they’ll be on opposite sides of the sofa, opposite sides of the stage, both on the edges of group photos. When they’ll be enemies instead of best friends. Things are easy though, for now, and maybe they don’t appreciate it enough. Maybe they take things for granted because it seems hard to believe that this is a temporary things and not forever._

 

 

 

“There were times when I regretted falling in love with you so much” Louis says when it’s going dark outside and the air is cooling off and maybe they should shut the window but don’t because it’s nicer to stay a tangled mess on the sofa, “I thought it would have made everything so much easier if I hadn’t have auditioned or if I haven’t have got through and even if I’d have fallen for Niall or something . . .” Harry laughs a little but it’s tentative and Louis curls his arm tighter around his waist. “It was only because I was so angry, angry because I still loved you so much”

 

“I’m . . .”

 

“Harry please, don’t apologise again, I just wanted to tell you how I felt”

 

“Tell me more then” Harry says and Louis looks down at him, at the light shadows under his eyes and the way he looks so much older except not really at all and Louis looks away again because it makes it easier to talk.

 

“It was so hard without you, the band didn’t sound the same and we struggled so much in those first few shows, adapting everything to you not being there. The stage always looked so empty and none of us were enough to fill it. I think I hated you for ditching the fans as much as me, they were hurting as well I think” Louis moves a hand to pet at Harry’s hair softly, reassuringly, because he thinks this is as hard to hear as it is to say, “It took a while but I realised that you wouldn’t have left if you weren’t so unhappy you really couldn’t continue and even though it still hurt I stopped hating you so much . . .” Louis breaks off because it’s a little too much and he doesn’t want to say anything else, doesn’t want Harry to hear anything else.

 

“Not everything was shit”

 

“No, there were good times” Harry says carefully, “But maybe not enough of them”

 

“Is that why you did it? Is that why you left?” Louis asks and he sounds so scared and Harry hates it so much

 

“Can we please not talk about this? It doesn’t matter anymore does it? We’re here now”

 

“I want to know though, shit Harry, it’s important to me” Harry turns over and sits up, looks down at Louis.

 

“Maybe it was yeah” Harry says eventually, “It at least contributed to it”

 

“We were getting there though”

 

“We weren’t” Harry says and it sounds cold even to himself, “Sorry, but we weren’t. Every time it seemed like we were getting somewhere there was another set back and we were back to looking shitty in the media and being people we weren’t and it was just too much”

 

“But it would have all been worth it”

 

“I know Louis please let’s not talk about this any more”

 

“I want to though”

 

“I fucked up okay, we know that, I know that now, I shouldn’t have quit. I was being selfish and I thought it might be better for us somehow but it just fucked everything up”

 

“I was going to forgive you but then I thought about it and you never told me, you never told me you felt so shitty”

 

“I know” Harry says quietly

 

“Why didn’t you talk to me? That’s the worst thing, you just left and it was like I wasn’t worth telling” Harry shakes his head and ignores the lump in his throat, the awful tightening of his chest

 

“Lou, please don’t think like that, you know how much you mean . . .”

 

“It didn’t feel like it . . .”

 

“I know, fucking hell I know and that’s why I hate talking about it”

 

“I’d apologise again if you’d let me” Harry says and Louis laughs even if his cheeks are a little wet and he pulls Harry impossibly closer because he doesn’t need to worry about anything like that now, not with Harry here tucked against him.

 

 

 

 

Louis is spending more time at Harry’s than he does at home and whenever he comes over he brings a new change of clothes which he never quite remembers to take back with him. His toothbrush is in the holder next to Harry’s and he has a draw where his shirts are folded neatly next to his jeans. Harry bought some of the fancy tea Louis used to like and even though it might not be his favourite flavour he drinks it anyway because he likes it well enough and doesn’t have the heart to tell Harry otherwise. He’s falling fast back in love with Harry, with the way he looks when he’s soft in the mornings and tired at night. With the way his jokes haven’t got any better but, maybe, have got worse.

 

 

 

Harry’s house is less cluttered than theirs used to be, bordering almost on clinical and he's not sure he likes it so much, thinks it’s a little too minimal.

 

“What happened to all your stuff?”

 

“You mean your stuff?” Louis likes to hoard things, some of which mean something to him and other things just because.

 

“Okay, half our shit used to be mine but I swear you had more shit than this” Harry shrugs, checks over the room.

 

“It’s probably in some of the boxes in the loft”

 

“Why didn’t you unpack it?”

 

“I thought I liked it like this, less . . . cluttered”

 

“Don’t you?”

 

“Not sure”

 

“I don’t” Louis says, “It doesn’t look . . . lived in”

 

“Guess not, you’ll have to bring some more of your crap over then, fill it out a little”

 

“Yeah, I should” the microwave pings and Louis beams, “The mug cake!”

 

“I’m still not sure this is going to work” Harry had been dubious that it was possible to make a cake in 3 minutes which actually tasted okay and even more unsure that Louis was going to be able to do it. Louis pulls the mug out and inspects it. It certainly looks okay, has risen slightly.

 

“Taste test” he says searching out a spoon. He hands it to Harry. “You go first?” Harry looks a little unsure, “Please”

 

“Fine, fine” Harry scoops out a tiny amount of cake, “It looks alright”

 

“You should be more trusting”

 

“Lou, it’s you and cooking, I think I’ve got a right to be unsure”

 

“Maybe, eat it, eat it” Harry does. “Verdict?”

 

“Hm, a solid 8 out of 10”

 

“Really?”

 

“Yeah, it’s kind of stodgy and we’re not going to make a fortune selling cake any time soon but it’s edible” Louis snatches the spoon back and tries some himself.

 

“S’good”

Louis used to be a terrible morning person, wouldn’t move from his nest of covers even when Harry promised him excellent (mediocre) coffee and excellent pancakes. It’s surprising then the increasingly frequent times Harry wakes up alone and pads downstairs to find Louis hunched up over the table, pan tapping the paper or else scribbling furiously across it.

 

“Lou, why are you up so early?” Louis jerks up and turns around, having seemingly forgotten Harry was here.

 

“Oh, hey, morning . . . I’m just working on some tactic stuff, for the team you know?”

 

“Going well?” Harry goes to make a drink and on seeing Louis’ hopeful face at the sound of the kettle being flicked on gets a cup out for him as well.

 

“Well, you know, it always looks good on paper. Whether we’ll be able to deliver is another thing entirely . . .” Louis takes his job as coach seriously and feels it’s a personal attack on him when the team doesn’t do as well as he’d hoped. He starts to say something about strategy and team roles and Harry nods until Louis breaks off halfway through to scratch down another great idea. Louis takes his tea with a smile.

 

“Thanks, I’ll have some breakfast if you’re making” he nudges Harry

 

“Cheeky bugger”

 

 

 

_“You sounded good out there tonight” Louis says, his hand light on Harry’s wrist as he pulls him through the door to their hotel room, presses him back against it. Always so gentle and careful._

_“So did you” Harry says because even though Louis might not have the most solos he’s always the only person Harry’s listening out for. Louis shrugs. “Come on Lou . . .“_

_“I reckon Niall will come round soon, he said something about us all getting together” Harry shakes his head_

_“We need to send Niall out one night, maybe with Liam . . .”_

_“Why?” Louis asks, faux sincerely and Harry shrugs_

_“You know why” Louis smirks and kisses him. Harry’s been growing a little more recently and the fact he isn’t quite the same height anymore is slightly strange but they’re making it work._

_“Does it have something to do with me?”_

_“Actually it’s Zayn, I’ve always had a thing for the quiet mysterious type . . .” Louis slides his hand to Harry’s waist, runs it along his skin leaving his cheeks hot and flushed._

_“I’m sure that’s exactly it” Louis says and Harry kisses him again because he really needs to now and the fact they’ve been standing here for at least two minutes without really doing anything seems a travesty really. They’re more careful in interviews now, try to appear like they’re two separate people instead of a package deal, even though they still are. Even though they’re still being branded as a tight-knit group of best friends because their audience likes that about them. Things are changing in the band and they’re not the same people they were a few months ago but they’re still making things work between them because they decided a long time ago that they needed this, needed each other, wanted to make this work._

 

 

Harry’s half watching the news and typing a few song ideas on his phone when Louis crashes down onto the sofa next to him and they’re both glad really that Louis sleeping the night has become regular.

 

“Um . . .”

 

“Hmm?” Harry turns to look at Louis, “Morning, or it might be afternoon” he glances at the clock, “Still morning, just”

 

“Glasses?” Louis asks a little uncertainly, nodding towards where the seemingly foreign object is perched on his nose.

 

“Oh, yeah”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“I got a little short-sighted” Harry shrugs, Louis considers him

 

“So it’s definitely not a fashion choice”

 

“No”

 

“I like it then”

 

“Wouldn’t you have otherwise?” Harry asks with a laugh

 

“No, it’s so pretentious when people do that, like, oh look at me _pretending_ to be cute and nerdy or whatever” Harry gives Louis a look like he’s forgotten the time when he did exactly the same thing. Either Louis doesn’t notice or he’s pretending not to have done.

 

“No, it’s definitely not that” Harry assures him

 

“Good” Louis leans across and kisses Harry before leaning back to stare at him again. Harry laughs a little self-consciously

 

“Honestly Lou, you look like you’ve never seen glasses before”

 

“It’s just weird I guess” Louis says with a frown, “It’s just another thing that’s changed” Harry wishes Louis wouldn’t keep doing this, making so much out of the little things, like it’s not normal for things to have changed in the years they weren’t together

 

“Lou . . .”

 

“I know, I’m sorry” Louis smiles and loops his arm through Harry’s, resting his head on his shoulder, “So, what’re you up to?”

 

“Writing a little”

 

“Oh?” Louis perks up at that, tries to glance over

 

“No” Harry slides his phone back into his pocket, Louis pouts. He isn’t too sure why Harry gets so secretive and shy about this, since he's pretty much the most shameless person Louis knows, but it’s equal parts cute and infuriating.

 

“What about?” Louis pokes

 

“You’ll just have to wait won’t you?”

 

“Oh come on, don’t be like that” Louis says, “If you’re not going to show me how are you going to show anyone else?”

 

“I will show you, you know that, just not right now. You’ve got to wait until I’m finished”

 

“But that could be ages” Louis whines and Harry flicks his side gently

 

“Well you’ll just have to exercise those spectacular patience skills I know you’ve got buried deep inside you somewhere”

 

“I’d rather not”

 

“Sorry” Harry shrugs, “Want some breakfast?”

 

“I thought you hated cooking?”

 

“I could still make you something, I can remember _how_ to”

 

“Aw, you’re so cute”

 

“Is that a yes? Or do you want to go out?” they can do that now.

 

“Make me something, I can’t be bothered to have a shower just yet”

 

“You’re such trash”

 

“Always have been” Louis unhooks his arm, stands up and holds out his hand for Harry,

 

“Now please”

 

“Fine, fine”

 

 

 

 

_“How was the flight?” Harry asks even though he doesn’t need to because Louis texted him the whole way._

****

**Saw some pretty clouds, they weren’t as pretty as you though**

**The sky looks nice but you’ll look nicer**

**Just had a delicious bit of plane cake, you’re more delicious though ;)**

Etc., etc. Harry made the mistake of checking his phone in the shop and snorted _and some old guy looked at him. Harry just smiled a little and went back to choosing snacks. He always tries to get Louis to eat better but Louis always grumbles and Harry thinks just for today, since Louis is coming home today they can eat junk._

_“Fine, boring, you know me though. I hate planes”_

_“Not when I’m with you” Harry says and Louis just really missed him. They’re no co-dependent and they exist outside of each other just as they exist outside of the band, but being apart is always hard._

_“No love, you always make things fun” Louis goes over to Harry because he should have kissed him already and Harry’s hands slide to his back to pull him closer. As much as he loves Harry when he’s all dressed up onstage there’s something about how soft and small Harry looks without his boots and in an old jumper and Louis is just really happy to be here and not talking to Harry over the phone. He kisses Harry slowly because they have all the time they need now and he wants to focus on the feel of his body pressed against his and the softness of his hair. Sometime later Louis pulls away and just stands pressed against Harry with his arms around his waist, fingers rubbing the soft curves of his sides. Louis was never a sap before he met Harry but not he freely admits he is._

_“Are we just going to stand here all night?”_

_“Hmm, we could” Louis says, his hands holding on a little tighter and he's about to kiss Harry again when the timer goes off and makes him jump._

_“Dinner’s ready” Harry says and Louis reluctantly moves away to let Harry inspect it. “You’re lucky I didn’t make you eat salad, I know the kind of shit you were eating while you were away”_

_“Why didn’t you then?” Harry sighs_

_“Because I’m a sap and I knew you wouldn’t really want it and I wanted to make something nice for you”_

_“Aw, Harry” Louis coos, throwing his arms around Harry’s waist and resting his head on his shoulder_

_“Don’t get used to it” Harry grumbles but he leans back against Louis and it’s stupid because they should be over this because it’s been years but they can’t help but be overwhelmed by each other sometimes. They eat on the sofa because the table is a mess with the Christmas decorations they haven’t put back in the loft yet and Louis channel hops._

_“What’s the point of having so many channels if there’s fuck all on?” he huffs, skipping over three when they have adverts. Louis eventually settles on a film just about to start and Harry settles in next to him and it’s good for them both to be home again._

 

 

 

 

 

“I listened to your music by the way”

 

“Lou, why do you always start talking when I’m about to suck you off?” Harry asks incredulously, staring up at Louis.

 

“Hmm?” Louis shakes his head and looks down, runs a hand through his hair. “Oh sorry, I just remembered”

 

“Just?” Harry asks and Louis nods.

 

“Yeah” Harry leans back and looks up at Louis. It’s a little ridiculous really, the way Louis is looking at him with his cock hard and leaking, how they’re actually having this conversation now, “I liked it”

“Don’t you want to talk about this later . . ?”

 

“I didn’t buy it sorry, didn’t want to give you the satisfaction of being more successful” Louis laughs, “It was good though, different from what we were doing . . . but good”

 

“Thanks”

 

“I suppose we were all just a little annoyed really that you could make stuff like that when we couldn’t, not just then at least . . .”

 

“The last album was pretty different”

 

“Yeah, we fought hard for that”

 

“Yeah”

 

“Sorry . . . I don’t know why I wanted to say that”

 

“It’s fine, I’m glad you liked it” Harry sounds almost shy about it, like the band and Louis and his solo stuff is worlds apart, which it is really. “Should I?”

 

“Yeah” Harry finally, _finally_ gets his mouth around Louis’ cock and Louis lets out a long breath.

 

“Fuck, I’d forgotten how good you always were”

 

 

**June**

_Harry’s jeans are tighter and his hair is shorter and things aren’t as easy as they used to be. They argue sometimes, when it’s hot outside and they’re stuck inside, when their next concert can’t come soon enough because it’s one less before they can go home._

_“You out stunting?”_

_“Why do you bother to ask when you fucking know?” Louis snaps and Harry just glances at him before looking back at the TV. Louis goes to change his shirt. He shoves his wallet and phone in his pocket and goes to the door. “I’m sorry”_

_“Me too” Harry is there then, at his side, hand touching his waist. Louis pulls him closer and curls a hand through his hair and their lips find each other’s. It’s nothing really, is over before it can turn into something because Louis is late already._

_“Go see the others yeah?” Louis says and Harry smiles._

_“You don’t have to worry about me all the time you know”_

_“I can’t help it” Harry knows all too well._

_“I’ll send you updates if you want? Me and Zayn watching TV, me and Zayn eating burgers . . .”_

_“Go for it” Louis touches Harry’s very sun stroked cheek. “As long as you stay inside for a bit”_

_“I put on lots of sun cream,” Harry grumbles and Louis kisses away his pout_

_“Obviously not enough baby”_

_“Help me next time?”_

_“Of course” Louis moves to open the door and Harry smiles and goes back to the bed because this is normal now, this is how they do things and it’s not worth fighting._

Harry falls none too gracefully against the mattress and pulls Louis on top of him, their lips reconnecting and his hands touching wherever they can. Louis fists a hand in his hair and pulls and Harry gasps against his mouth and again when Louis does it a second time. He pulls Louis closer, rests his hands on his arse.

 

“What are we doing?” Louis asks and it stumps Harry for a second although he’s sure Louis doesn’t mean it literally because it’s pretty obvious what they’re doing, or about to do. He slides off Louis and Louis sits up to look at him.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Why are we pretending like we can make things work again?” Louis asks and for a second Harry’s not sure he's breathing because he’d hoped, hoped so much, Louis wouldn’t ever say anything like that.

 

“Because we can?” Harry says. Louis’ hair is a mess and Harry’s shirt is undone and it only makes things worse. Louis nods after a while.

 

“Yeah, yeah we can”

 

“Yeah” Louis gets up on his knees and pulls Harry towards him again, reconnects their lips. He lays Louis back and is so gentle with him as if they’re back at the X Factor house again and they’re nervous but bright eyed all over again. He kisses Louis wherever he can and sometimes he forgets that Louis is smaller than him because his personality is _so much_ and bright. His touches are light and a little shaky and Louis smiles at him, steadies him with a hand through his hair and his lips pressed against his. Louis is bold for him, moves Harry’s hand where he wants them because if they’re going to make this work again it has to be real.

 

Having Harry like this again is everything and Louis shuts his eyes and Harry’s everywhere and not nearly where Louis needs him to be. He pulls Harry closer and their mouths and hands are frantic. Louis aches with a need for Harry he’d almost forgotten about and his skin is hot and goose-pimpled wherever Harry’s fingertips trace across. Harry is so gentle with him and maybe another time he can tell Harry he doesn’t need to be but for now this is good.

 

Everything Louis thinks he needs to say to Harry can wait for now because he thinks they’ve said enough for now. Thinks that lying with Harry’s hand against his afterwards is more than okay.

“We should do everything we used to have to” Louis says a little too excitedly over breakfast one morning and drops the rest of his croissant into his coffee.

 

“You want another?” Harry asks as Louis fishes it out

 

“Please” Harry gets up

 

“Anyway, what should we do?”

 

“The stunt shit, we should do the whole shopping, yoghurt thing”

 

“Don’t forget the skiing”

 

“Of course, the fucking skiing” Louis says with a laugh. It’s easy to laugh about now but back then it was hard on both of them. Louis isn’t sure why he suggests it really; only it seems fun to make fun of how ridiculous their lives used to be. How it was all one big game of pretend and no one believed it.

 

“I’ll organise something then”

 

“You mean I’ll organise it” Harry says sitting back down

 

“Hey, I’ve got better at sorting my life out now”

 

“Sure love”

 

“Fuck off, I’ll prove it to you” and Louis is so cute sometimes and Harry just smiles at him.

 

 

 

 

They get back to the hotel room after a ‘successful’ day of skiing whereby Louis had to put up wit Harry’s pouting and grumbling that he was terrible at skiing before he gave in and just watched Louis instead.

 

“Fucking hell it’s hot in here” Harry says after opening the door to their hotel room and being hit with a wave of stifling air.

 

“Shit, it is” Louis pads in after him and pulls his scarf and coat off, dumping them down on the bed.

 

“I thought the whole point of coming skiing is so you can do cute shit because it’s cold” Louis goes to open the window

 

“There’s no way we’re sleeping close together tonight, I’ll fucking die” Harry joins Louis at the window and sticks his head outside like a dog.

 

“Ahh, air” he sighs and Louis elbows him lightly.

 

“You’re such a idiot, seriously”

 

“Woof”

 

“Fuck off”

 

 

 

 

Maybe they shouldn’t have been so hasty to wish it was cold because the next day the heating won’t turn on and Louis rings reception who tells him politely that they’re having a problem and they can offer them a discount on the room as compensation. Louis tells her not to worry and hangs up. He looks at where Harry is barely visible under the duvet.

 

“Why was I the one who had to get cold?” he asks and Harry says something very muffled, “What was that love?”

 

“Because I’m a delicate flower and you’re a robust cactus or something” Louis snorts

 

“Did you actually get weirder during our time apart?”

 

“Hmm, I think it has something to do with the cold” Harry says, poking his face out of the duvet, “Come here?”

 

“Already planning on doing,” Louis says going over and sliding back under the duvet. He rests his feet, still cold despite his socks, on Harry’s skin and he yelps.

 

“Fuck, get off me”

 

“But I’m cold as well”

 

“Doesn’t mean we both have to get colder”

 

“Actually you’re the one getting colder, I’m warming up”

 

“I hate you”

 

“Love you too baby” Louis coos and Harry sighs. Louis moves his feet though and tangles them inside the bottom of the duvet, pulls Harry back against his chest.

 

“Well at least we get to be cute now”

 

“I preferred it when it was warm” Harry grumbles.

 

“Don’t you like cuddling anymore?” Louis says with a pout

 

“Of course I do” Harry says and it’s almost like Louis needs to hear that reassurance or something because it actually makes him feel better somehow, “I just like being warm as well”

 

“We’re going home tomorrow,” Louis says

 

“I hope the heating isn’t broken there as well”

 

“Don’t tempt fate”

 

“Oops, I already did”

 

“We can have a holiday in London then, go find a hotel which does have heating”

 

“We should actually do that one day, it’d be fun,” Harry says sleepily and Louis guesses he barely knows what he's saying.

 

“I’ll look into it” Louis loves the way Harry still fits so perfectly against him. He’s still amazed that they’re doing this again because he told himself when Harry left it was the end because he was hurt and angry. Now though, with Harry here, he can’t imagine them not being together again. He figures you never stop loving the first person you fell in love with, not really, despite whatever happens.

 

“I’m glad we came though” Harry says a while later when Louis has almost fallen asleep again and his arm went numb and he had to move it.

 

“Hmm?” Harry turns over to face him and can’t resist but kissing him because he can and because Louis is far too cute with his hair ruffled against the pillow and his sleeves pulled down over his hands.

 

“I’m glad you got to be my winter girlfriend for once”

 

“Me too” Harry links their fingers together and kisses Louis again.

 

 

Their flight home is delayed tremendously and they’ve been awake for longer than anyone should and Harry is sure Louis could sleep standing up, leaning against the front door at this point. They leave everything in the hall in favour of going to bed and they’ve barely graced the pillow before they’re asleep.

 

 

 

They do the shopping part of their date when they get home. Harry plonks down on the floor of the dressing room instead of sitting outside mostly so Louis can ask his opinion easily. From his position Harry gets a perfect view of Louis’ cute little stomach and he's really glad Louis stopped trying to work out so much. Louis tries on a blue shirt first.

 

“This one?” Harry nods

 

“Nice”

 

“If you’re going to just say that for everything you can fuck off now”

 

“But you always look nice”

 

“You’re so sweet” Louis leans down and kisses Harry because maybe he missed doing that the most and they’ve got a lot of kisses to catch up on. “But please be honest”

 

“Okay I will be, try on another” the problem with Louis trying on shirts is that Harry starts to get a little distracted by how good he looks both shirtless and with how the shirts, which are all very fitted, look on him.

 

“Black?”

 

“I like black, black is good” Harry nods, looking at Louis in the mirror and Louis turns to look at him.

 

“You okay there?”

 

“Yeah, just thinking about how good you look” Harry is nothing if not honest

 

“Oh, are you?”

 

“Yeah” Louis looks at Harry in the mirror, at the way he’s tucked in the corner of the dressing room on the floor because it’s too small in here really for the both of them and Louis wonders why, since they clothes are so damn overpriced, they don’t have bigger rooms. He offers Harry his hand and hauls him up none too gracefully and presses him back against the mirror to kiss him. Harry’s hands go to touch Louis, to run along his back lightly but Louis says something muffled against his lips and presses his wrists back against the wall as well.

 

“ _Lou_ ” Harry breaks away to whine at him

 

“ _Harry_ ” Louis mocks, “If we get the shirt all creased they might make me pay for it and I’m not sure whether I want it or not”

 

“That’s no problem . . .”

 

“You can’t think like that”

 

“I can when I want you” Harry says and Louis just smiles because he loves Harry even if he is the most terrible flirt ever.

 

“Well I’m sorry baby, you can either be content with what you have or you can have nothing” Harry leans in to kiss Louis again and succeeds, briefly, “We’d better get going, they might be a little suspicious about what we’re doing”

 

“ _Lou_ ”

 

“Sorry” Louis doesn’t sound sorry at all.

 

 

 

Harry is angsty all the way back and Louis lets his fingers trail against his thigh but doesn’t do anything back and Harry fidgets around and no matter how much Louis wants to kiss him waiting until they get back will be worth it.

 

Harry practically drags them through the door, throws aside the one shirt Louis actually bought out of the 20 or so he tried on and presses Louis against the wall, his hands everywhere, his lips going to press against Louis’.

 

“Careful with my shirt” Louis says far too late and Harry just huffs and works his lips so well against Louis’ that Louis doesn’t pretend to care anymore. “Little eager aren’t we?” Louis says with a laugh when Harry goes to his knees and fiddles with Louis’ jeans, annoyed with how awkward the button is. Louis pushes his hands away gently and works at them himself.

 

“Well you can’t just kiss me like you did in that _stupid_ shop and expect it to be enough” Harry sounds angry almost and Louis laughs.

 

“I’m sorry baby” Harry’s half hard already, he's been overwhelmed all evening and finally having Louis where he wants him is too much too soon. Harry pulls Louis ever closer, runs his hands along his thighs, down his back. It isn’t enough. Louis breaks away, grasps hold of Harry’s wrist and guides them over to the bed. He ditches his shirt. He’s about to do the same to Harry but he can’t quite get over how pretty the silky white looks against his lightly tanned skin and dark hair. Harry seems a little confused when he makes to take it off and Louis smacks his hands away gently. He kisses Harry again, slides his hands across his shirt, rests them on his chest, feels his heartbeat. Finally though he works up the resolve to pull his shirt off before working at the rest of their clothes. Harry pushes him backwards, straddles his waist, sucks and nips marks on his neck before sliding a hand between them and working it along Louis’ cock. It feels incredible to have Harry touching him after everything he's been doing all evening and Louis moans low in his throat, tips his head back slightly. Harry’s mouth is everywhere and when Louis feels it against his lips again he goes back to grasping a fistful of Harry’s curls to keep him in place. Louis is dizzy already from he feeling of Harry’s body pressed against his and the way their lips fit together perfectly. He pulls back to see Harry looking flushed already.

 

Louis works his hand along his cock a few times until Harry gets far too impatient and pushes him away and finally, finally gets his mouth around him. Louis lets out a low breath. He knows Harry determines how well he’s doing by the sounds he makes so he’s always vocal, always wants Harry to know he’s being good for him. Louis rests his hand lightly in Harry’s hair the way he’s always done and Harry makes a small appreciative noise. Louis still finds it a little strange how easily things are between them, how much he already knows about Harry and how they do things. He doesn’t have to find things out about Harry the way he would with someone else, they simply slide back into things the way they always have and it’s so nice and comforting in a way, to know that things haven’t changed, to know Harry hasn’t changed. He’s probably not making enough noises or Harry seems to think he’s not enjoying things and he pulls of him carefully and looks up.

 

“Lou?”

 

“Hm?” Louis looks down and doesn’t much like that so pulls Harry up as gently as he can, pulls him back against him.

 

“What’s up?”

 

“Just don’t want to come like that love”

 

“Oh, okay” Harry is still frowning a little and Louis kisses him again. He touches Harry’s waist lightly and kisses him softly until Harry grumbles and pulls away.

 

“Lou, come on, we can do better than this”

 

“What?”

 

“I mean, this is nice and all . . .” Louis scoffs

 

“Oh, when did you get so demanding?”

 

“I always was, have you forgotten?”

 

“Alright then, Mr no romance . . .” Louis holds a hand to his head very dramatically.

“You’re ridiculous” Harry shakes his head and pulls Louis through the hall and upstairs. They fall backwards onto the bed and Harry pulls Louis into his lap. He works his mouth so well against Louis’ that Louis begins to question why he wanted to take this slower because he wants Harry now.

 

“Do you still . . .?”

 

“Of course” Harry’s hair is sticking up from where Louis’ grip was and he smiles, smooths it down. He lies Harry down and hops off the bed quickly, aware of the way Harry whines at him, before climbing back on, slicking up his finger while he kisses Harry again, shushes him gently. Louis circles his finger round Harry’s rim while Harry wriggles around, impatient, before pushing it in slowly.

 

“Want you to ride me love, yeah?” Harry’s mouth goes slack and Louis runs a finger across his full bottom lip, cups his hand around Harry’s jaw and pulls his lips against his again. “You want to baby?” Louis asks when he’s pulled back and Harry nods, curls bouncing again and Louis sucks in a breath, can’t help but twirl a stray strand around his finger.

 

Louis leans back against the headboard and Harry climbs on top of him.

 

The thing is Harry looks so pretty riding Louis. When he’s working so hard to make this good for the both of them, when his face is red and hot and he’s frowning in concentration and his mouth is agape. Louis can’t do much else apart from rest his hands on Harry’s hips and help him when he's struggling. Harry is so good and tight around him and Louis

 

 

Their lips fit together easily and Louis curls a hand in Harry’s hair while Harry touches his waist, strokes the soft skin there. He slips his tongue past Harry’s lips and Harry slides his other hand to Louis’ back, to rest it on the dip of his back. He could just stay here forever, with Harry pressed close, their bodies a confusing tangle. He loves Harry and maybe if he holds on tight enough he can stop Harry from leaving. He tangles his hand tighter in Harry’s curls, pulls lightly, he loves how long Harry’s hair is now, loves how it curls so prettily at the ends. Harry’s panting now and gets a hand between them, presses it down on Louis’ cock before shifting off Louis slightly, grinding against him ever so gently. Louis exhales sharply. Louis thinks Harry should probably stop looking at him with his lips parted and his hair falling over his face because Louis just wants to wreck him. Wants to fuck him into the mattress and make them both forget what’s happening because neither of them can think straight. Wants to make Harry flushed and panting and an incomprehensible mess. Louis is aware of how very much still clothed they are and he leans up, tugs at the bottom of Harry’s shirt, gets it off him. He can’t help but crash their lips back together while his hands go to roam Harry’s skin even though he could map it out from memory. He lightly touches the sharp lines of hips and spine and the soft curves of his sides, his cute little stomach. He loves Harry’s body no matter how much or little he’s been working out, not matter how in shape or not he is. He loves Harry sharp and defined but also soft and gentle. Eventually though his hands go back to Harry’s hair because he loves how much there is to hold onto, how soft it is, how it tickles against his skin.

 

He loves it when Harry rides him because Harry tries so hard, tries to make it so good for both of them. Harry bites down on his bottom lip and looks at Louis under heavy lidded eyes and Louis has to look away because it’s too much. He’ll never get over the fact that he gets to see Harry like this and call him his. Harry feels far too good and he looks far too pretty and it’s all far too much. He shamelessly mostly loves the way Harry’s curls bounce around his face when he’s moving and Louis watches in fascination and their movement. Louis keeps a hand on Harry’s waist to steady him because he knows how Harry gets, knows he always tries too much and nearly hurts himself. He's never been more glad he convinced Harry to grow his hair out when he was scared to and unsure about what it meant and what people would think. He can’t help but quiet the unashamed noises Harry emits by kissing him again. He’ll never get enough of seeing Harry like this. Harry whines when Louis hits him just there and Louis helps him hit the spot every time with his hands on Harry’s hips.

 

“Fuck” Harry lets out a stream of soft swear words and loud whines and moans and Louis’ ears ring with the sound. Harry’s movements become slower and ragged and he looks drained, stray tears leaking down his cheeks. Louis flips them over and presses Harry back against the mattress, his hair dark against the white pillow. He fucks into Harry, pressing up against his spot and Harry is a jumbled mess, an arm thrown across his face, the other touching Louis wherever he can. Louis kisses his skin, strokes his hair gently. He’s close, so close, but he wants Harry to come first. Harry’s skin is hot and his forehead is sticky and Louis leans down to kiss along his neck, to mutter softly in his ear. Harry comes with a cry and Louis strokes his sides and presses open-mouthed kisses against his skin. Seeing Harry a flushed mess and the feel of Harry so close and everywhere means it doesn’t take Louis much longer. He pants hot breaths until he's calmed down and pulls out gently, lying back on the bed next to Harry for a while. He makes them have a shower and hold onto Harry because he looks soft and sleepy. They get in bed and Louis holds Harry against him, pets his hair and presses small kisses against his skin. Neither of them says much but they don’t have to, their love and the feel of each other pressed close is enough. Just being there is enough.

 

 

 

 

**November**

 

Harry gets used to Louis at least texting him everyday so when he doesn’t it’s disconcerting. He doesn’t want to look pushy or anything so he doesn’t press Louis to answer him but can’t shake the strange empty feeling in his chest. And maybe, as with everything they’ve always done, they fell back in love quickly, far too quickly, perhaps before they were ready. At least, Harry tries to tell himself, if they’re not meant to be together, they at least tried. He’s not sure that makes him feel any better at all really.

 

 

 

It’s Friday night and he's out with Zayn having overpriced cocktails at some bar Nick took him to once where the drinks come in jars and there’s peeling paint for aesthetic reasons. Zayn, a little more ungraceful than usual, comes back to their table and hands him something bright blue which he sniffs dubiously.

 

“It might taste shitty, I’m sorry, I forgot what you wanted” Zayn says by means of explanation and Harry helps him sit back down because they’ve been out for a while now.

 

“Thanks” Harry takes a careful sip and he’s drunk enough for it to taste okay.

 

“Why is the music always so loud?” Zayn complains, shifting closer to Harry to say in his ear.

 

“You’re such a granddad”

 

“What?” Harry just presses Zayn’s drink into his hand and shakes his head.

 

“Nothing”

 

“What?” Harry picks up his own drink and Zayn takes this opportunity to nudge him a little too harshly. Harry isn’t exactly the most coordinated person when drunk and he’s glad he picked out a dark shirt instead of the white one he was going to wear.

 

“ _Zayn_ ” Zayn glances down at Harry’s now wet shirt and shrugs. Harry is most definitely going to charge him for the dry cleaning.

 

“Your phone”

 

“What?” Zayn just picks his phone up off the table and hands it to him.

 

“Oh . . . hello?”

 

“Harry?” he can just about hear.

 

“Louis?”

 

“Is it Louis?” Zayn asks and Harry nods, “Zayn’s here too”

 

“Oh, where are you?”

 

“Out”

 

“Oh, that’s why I can barely hear you”

 

“I told you the music was loud,” Zayn says a little smugly

 

“Drink your drink and shut up” Harry says

 

“So mean to me” Zayn pouts and Harry touches his waist gently

 

“Sorry”

 

“What?” Louis asks

 

“Oh, not you, I was talking to Zayn”

 

“This isn’t working out is it?”

 

“Come join us” there’s a pause

 

“Okay, text me where you are”

 

 

 

Louis arrives half an hour later when Harry’s ordered Zayn some onion rings because he needs to sober up a little. They arrive neatly presented in a little basket although Zayn doesn’t seem to care all that much as he starts eating, well devouring, them.

 

“Mine” Zayn says when Harry tries to steal one

 

“I paid for them!”

 

“Mine” Harry gives up his attempts to snaffle some of Zayn’s food and goes to order himself some because his head is spinning a little. Louis is sat at the table when he gets back.

 

“Hey”

 

“When did Zayn get so overprotective over his food?” Louis asks

 

“I’m not sure but I reckon he needs to learn it’s polite to _share_ ” Harry says and Zayn just moves his plate closer to him. Harry sits down carefully and pushes his and Zayn’s empty glasses away. Louis eyes them.

 

“Sorry I haven’t called or anything” Louis says and Harry moves closer so he can hear better. Louis is wearing a simple black t-shirt and it looks good on him.

 

“It’s fine”

 

“No it isn’t” Louis runs a hand through his hair, “I didn’t really want to talk about this here” he gestures around, mostly talking about the frankly ridiculously loud music, “Especially not when you and Zayn have obviously had a drink”

 

“Hey, I’m fine” Louis gives him a look, “Partially fine is better than wasted”

 

“Fuck off being a deep drunk” Harry dissolves into a fit of laughter and maybe he's more drunk than he thought.

 

 

 

Sometime close to 2am they send Zayn home in a taxi and stand outside waiting for their car.

 

“I’m going to regret this tomorrow” Louis slurs, leaning back against the wall and holding his spinning head.

 

“Same, maybe” Harry adds because he's not even sure what he's saying anymore and maybe he should be careful not to say anything he’ll regret.

 

“You don’t have training . . .” Louis groans and Harry just laughs.

 

“Sucks to be you” Louis gives him the finger. They lull into silence and Louis checks the time on his phone. It’s been a while since they saw Zayn off.

 

“Harry, you did actually call the taxi didn’t you?”

 

“Of course . . .”

 

“Harry . . .”

 

“I mean, I swear I did . . .”

 

“Harry, you goof . . .” Louis cuts off when a black car pulls up.

 

“See! How could you have doubted me? How could I have doubted myself?!”

 

“Come on . . .” Louis just shakes his head and pulls Harry towards the car.

 

 

 

“I didn’t call because I was confused,” Louis says later when they’ve collapsed on his sofa and Harry’s nearly fallen asleep at least three times.

 

“Confused?” Harry frowns before yawning and Louis pulls him more comfortably across his lap.

 

“Yeah, like, I want things to work out between us so much but at the same time I was like, why do you deserve this? Why do you deserve a second chance? Sorry, that sounds horrible” Harry doesn’t say anything and Louis carries on, “And then I realised this wasn’t just about you and that I wanted to be with you and that’s all that matters really” Harry isn’t exactly sure what to say so says nothing and Louis seems fine with that.

 

“Come on then, let’s get you to bed . . .”

 

 

 

Harry catches Louis looking at him sometimes in a way which doesn’t sit well with him. He just smiles though and pulls Louis closer to him and it’s always enough, for now, and they’re okay, for now.

 

“Are you tired?”

 

“Not too sure” Harry looks up at Louis and slides his hand under Louis’ shirt, strokes his side lightly.

 

“How can you not be sure?”

 

“Okay then, yeah I reckon I am tired” Louis says and makes to stand up, Harry shifting off him to let him.

 

“If you’re not tired you can stay up a bit” Louis suggests and Harry nods although his chest feels strange and Louis should be kissing him, holding his hands out to pull him up and leading him to bed. They should be having sleepy cuddles and pointless conversations and Louis should hold him until they both fall asleep. Things should be exactly like they used to be, like they have been recently. Instead: “Alright, yeah, I’ll stay up. Night” Louis kisses him, his hand stroking through his hair before it’s gone and Louis heads upstairs.

 

 

 

 

They’re eating dinner, take out again because Harry hates cooking these days, and Louis looks across at Harry and hates that he’s not happy. The radio is on quietly in the background and Harry looks soft in a jumper and maybe Louis has got used to his shorter hair even though he still misses it long and he sighs and puts his fork down.

 

“I can’t do this anymore”

 

“What?” Harry asks, looking across at him with a frown.

 

“Look, I’m sorry, I really am because I wanted to make this work out so fucking much, but I just don’t think it can” and even though that was him saying the exact same thing a few years ago Harry is still hurt and angry.

 

“Why?”

 

“You must feel the same Harry” Louis says sadly, “Things aren’t the same as they used to be and I don’t think they can be. We spent too much time apart and too much time moving on”

 

“I didn’t though” Harry says, “I never moved on because I regretted leaving you so much I couldn’t”

 

“Please, don’t say stuff like that”

 

“Why? It’s true and this could work out Lou if we just tried”

 

“But we shouldn’t have to try” Louis says, “That’s not love, that’s not what we used to be”

 

“But we might get like that again”

 

“I really don’t think so”

 

Whatever they’ve built up over the past half a year doesn’t mean anything because all it takes it the one conversation and then Louis is leaving and Harry doesn’t try and kid himself that he’s going to come back

 

 

 

 

_Harry goes back home and Louis gets back from tour a few weeks later and Harry wonders if he should have waited for the break, it was less than a month away after all. He wonders if it would have made things easier, or more complicated, and decides in the end that it doesn’t matter because the end result would still be the same- he would have left._

_“Hey” Louis dumps his stuff down in the hallway and pads into the lounge, he's taken off his shoes because his footsteps are soft and when he appears in the doorway he's wearing a jumper and looks soft and Harry would get up and kiss him if he thought Louis wanted him to do that._

_“Hi” the tension is unbearable and Harry mutes the TV before turning it off, turns around to look at Louis who is still stood in the doorway. “I’m going to take a shower then we can make dinner yeah?”_

_“Yeah” Harry says breathily, so, so relieved Louis doesn’t seem to hate him or anything._

_They eat pressed against each other on the sofa and Harry falls asleep with his head resting in Louis’ lap and to the feel of Louis playing with his hair._

_“Lou, please . . .” it’s a few weeks later and things aren’t good._

_“No, I understand, really I do. I know why you had to do it and I respect your decision to do it but I think I need a little time to process it all”_

_“What does that mean?” Harry asks and he sounds scared and Louis hates that and his eyes blur and he wants to hang up the phone so he doesn’t have to have this conversation, not now, not ever._

_“I don’t know what it means,” Louis says because it’s the truth and they never lie to each other because they do far too much lying otherwise._

_“Lou . . .”_

_“I’ll ring you sometime, please let me have a bit of space and time” Harry nods before realising Louis can’t see, that Louis isn’t pressed up against his side in some hotel room somewhere waiting for their next performance._

_“Okay” Louis hangs up and Harry sets his phone aside, gets up, sits back down. Restless. Not sure what to do, not sure if he's done the right thing._

_Except of course he’s done the right thing because he always told himself this was his dream and if it ever stopped being fun or what he wanted then that was it. No matter how hard it was for him, how much he loves the others, Louis, the fans, performing, if he had to compromise himself when he shouldn’t have to then that was it._

_The worst part about breaking up, in practical terms, is moving out. Harry takes his stuff first, lets himself in on a Tuesday morning in May where it’s just starting to get warmer and he’s gone without his coat. The house is too quiet and he always hated the awful clock someone bought them for Christmas and Louis kind of liked so they’d spent a morning fixing it to the wall only for Louis to get distracted by Harry being up the ladder and they took a ‘break’ to fuck against the wall which was far more fun. There are boxes upon boxes in the lounge and more in the kitchen even though they decided to just leave most of the kitchen stuff because it didn’t really belong to either of them specifically. Harry goes upstairs and opens the wardrobe, his stuff on the right and Louis’ on the left except it isn’t because some stuff is so shared he’s not sure who it belonged to originally. He shuts the door and sits on the bed. He's been here quarter of an hour and he's done nothing. How can he though? He can’t think about moving out though because it will make things all the more real, because it will be proof that they’re breaking up indefinitely and he’s not sure who he is anymore, not without Louis. He scrubs at his eyes furiously and gets up to sort through the bedside table, stopping only when he sees Louis’ lighter mixed in with his assortment of hair bobbles and it’s so_ metaphoric _and awful._

 

 

**

 

Harry wakes up alone for the first time in months and it’s more painful than he thought it would be. He’s got so used to having Louis back that not having him there seems so horrible and unnatural. He calls Zayn because it’s the only thing he can think of doing.

 

“Hey” Zayn sounds rough and Harry guesses he woke him up. “What’s up?”

 

“Louis” he says and has to stop before he breaks down or something.

 

“What about him?” Zayn asks and he sounds cautious, like he’s not ready for Harry to tell him or something.

 

“He . . . he broke things off” he says and it sounds awful to his own ears and he hates how he has to say it. Zayn doesn’t say anything for a moment.

 

“Shit”

 

“It is” Harry says with an empty laugh.

 

“Why? No, this isn’t the kind of talk we should be having on the phone”

 

“Come over?”

 

“Sure, give me an hour” he hangs up and Harry wonders how, despite everything, he’s managed to fix things with Zayn and keep things like that. He's not sure he can handle losing Zayn as well.

 

 

 

“At least things are even between you now. You’ve both been the one to leave” Zayn says and Harry smiles weakly

 

“I guess that’s fair,” he’d maybe cry if he had any tears left.

 

“Bloody hell, things couldn’t just be simple for you could it?” Zayn says, sliding his arm around Harry’s shoulder and letting him lean into his side because he is crying again now.

 

“Nope, not at all”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

_It’s late when Harry arrives. He likes driving at night because there’s less traffic and he found some radio station called Forever Christmas or something and it didn’t have any ads. He makes a left turn and pulls the car up at the driveway. Louis’ car must be in the garage since his mum’s is the only car out. Harry unbuckles his seatbelt and gets out, he notices the front door is already open and he goes over without unpacking the car. Louis doesn’t say anything, just takes hold of his hand lightly and pulls him inside, shutting the door gently and pressing Harry back against it. He kisses him and it’s sweet and soft and not enough but Harry guesses everyone is asleep since it’s dark upstairs and quiet. His hands go to rest on Louis’ waist, to grasp hold of his fluffy hair, his mouth parting. He always wonders if he’ll be over it, if he’ll come home after some time apart, and he won’t feel this desperate need for Louis to be as close as physically possible. If he won’t need to grasp hold of Louis’ soft body and not let go. He pulls Louis closer so they’re flush against each other and pants breaths against his lips. Louis pulls back slightly, smiles at him, runs a hand through his now wild hair._

_“Hi”_

_“Hi” Louis giggles a little and Harry wonders if it’s normal to fall in love over and over again. “Missed you”_

_“How was your trip?” Harry asks when they’re lying close on the sofa with the Christmas tree lights on._

_“I rang you everyday”_

_“Yeah but that was the phone, tell me” Louis sighs softly, cards his fingers through the tangles in Harry’s hair. He’ll never get over how pretty it looks longer, how glad he is that Harry didn’t get it cut when he was scared to keep growing it out._

_“Fine, you know how it always is”_

_“Yeah”_

_“But I’m back now and you don’t have to go away for a few days”_

_“Yeah”_

_“Did you forget how to talk while I was away?” Louis teases and Harry smiles but it’s a little half hearted and Louis frowns. “What’s up?”_

_“I just don’t want next year to be the same as it’s always been”_

 

 

_Happy Christmas Everyone !_

Harry should probably take Louis off tweet alert because it only makes him feel sad. He's home for Christmas and wearing the ugly jumper his mum got him as a joke, a half finished glass of wine on the floor by his feet. It’s nice, being home again, even if it doesn’t quite mean the same as it used to because he comes back more frequently these days. It isn’t reserved for the one day or so they had off when he was in the band. He hears his mum laughing in the kitchen and he should go and help out or something but he can’t quite be bothered, settles for checking through twitter instead. That only makes him feel worse because there are countless tweets about him and Louis which have only increased since they got papped together so much and now there’s nothing. People are panicking and speculating and Harry wants to explain but doesn’t. He sets his phone aside and picks up his glass instead.

 

 

 

 

“How was your Christmas?” Zayn asks a few days before new years when he’s back in London.

 

“Yeah, good”

 

“Same, so I’m having a bit of a get together for new years, want to come?”

 

“My alternative is watching the countdown alone and being in bed before 1 so yeah, sure” Zayn looks at him a little strangely before smiling.

 

“Great, it’ll be good”

 

 

 

 

Harry is incredibly drunk and only vaguely aware of the glass of water Zayn is trying to press into his hands.

 

“Fucking hell” Zayn mutters. He sits Harry down on a chair in the kitchen, pushes his hair back from his face. “Who let you get this drunk, hm?” he goes to find a straw and manages to get Harry to drink some of the water finally before Harry pushes it away.

 

“I don’t feel great”

 

“If you’re going to throw up please tell me because I’d rather it happen upstairs and not in the kitchen” Harry nods and Zayn doesn’t know what that means,

“Come on Harry, talk to me, are you going to be sick or not?”

 

“I don’t know” Zayn would be exasperated if he didn’t feel so sad. He pulls lightly on Harry’s hand

 

“Well let’s go upstairs in case then” he pulls with more force when Harry just sits there. He loops an arm around his waist to steady him and ignores people who try and start a drunken conversation with him on the stairs.

 

“Fucking rude” they yell after him and Zayn just shakes his head, doesn’t want to start anything. He sets Harry down on the edge of the bath and toes the door shut, locking it so no one comes barging in, they can use one of the other bathrooms.

 

“If I’d have known you were going to use this as an excuse to drown your sorrows I wouldn’t have invited you” Zayn says because he's honest when he's drunk and he’d much rather he downstairs enjoying himself than looking after Harry who’s got far too drunk too fast because it’s barely midnight yet. They’re going to miss the countdown at this rate.

 

“Sorry” Zayn winces.

 

“Don’t apologise”

 

“What do you want me to say then?”

 

“Nothing” Zayn gets his cigarettes out, figures it’s his bathroom and he can smoke if he wants to, only before he can actually light it Harry’s started crying. He tucks the cigarette behind his ear and goes over to him, touches his side lightly.

 

“Hey, come on now”

 

“I just don’t understand what went wrong, like last time I was the one who fucked things up but . . . nothing was going bad . . . and . . .” Zayn shushes him

 

“Calm down first” he says, he's nothing but practical even if he’s slightly drunk himself. It’s hopeless though because Harry is far too drunk and Zayn awkwardly perches next to him on the edge of the bath and slides an arm around his waist and shushes him gently. At some point he goes a little numb and he moves his arm and rests his elbows on his knees. Harry stops crying and takes a few shuddering breaths.

 

“I’d ask you what’s wrong but it’s obviously Louis”

 

“Yeah”

 

“You have to give Louis more time,” Zayn says, “This is hard for him and I reckon he’s confused about how he feels”

 

“Why?” Harry practically whines

 

“Because you left the band and he spent a long time moving on from that and getting over it and now here you are again, hoping he wants to try and make things work again and it’s probably too much for him” Zayn isn’t sure how he's making sense, thinks he mustn’t be drunk enough. He’ll get another drink when they’re done here. “I remember you told me this once and it was the more cliché thing ever but I reckon the reason things becomes clichés is because they’re true but you need to have the bad times so you can appreciate the good” Zayn says, “This is just one of those bad times”

 

“I reckon things have been the bad times ever since I left the band,” Harry mutters and Zayn isn’t ready to hear things like that.

 

“Come on, it can’t have been that bad . . .”

 

“I just, regret messing things up with Lou so much” Harry is dangerously close to crying again and Zayn strokes a hand through his hair gently.

 

“That was a bad time sure”

 

“It was the worst time”

 

“Do you want to go home?” Zayn asks and Harry shakes his head furiously

 

“No, please”

 

“Okay” Zayn says softly, “You’re going to lie down for a bit though yeah? Try and sober up a bit” Zayn slides his arm around Harry’s waist and helps him up.

 

“Yeah” Zayn guides Harry to his room, the walk from the bathroom taking far longer than strictly necessary.

 

“You get to sleep here, special huh?”

 

“Special” Zayn deposits Harry down on the bed gently and pushes him to lie back. Zayn’s room is different than his own, more cluttered in a good way. Harry’s always thought he should get more stuff, try and make it more homely. Zayn’s lost the cigarette from behind his ear and he sighs.

 

“I’m going to go smoke . . .” he has a clear no smoking in the bedroom rule.

 

“No” Harry reaches out a hand frantically and Zayn pauses, sits back down.

 

“Okay, I’ll stay for a bit” he finds it a little weird sitting there while Harry’s lying down so he moves to sit next to him, ends up lying next to him, his arm thrown around Harry protectively. No matter how much he wants to be downstairs with everyone else he's not about to leave Harry like this, Harry means too much to him to do that.

 

“I’m sorry for ruining your party”

 

“You didn’t, don’t worry”

 

“Okay” Zayn gets up carefully when Harry’s asleep and goes downstairs to finally get his cigarette.

 

 

 

 

Harry wakes up and checks his phone. It’s 12.47. It’s nearly an hour into the New Year and he feels terrible. He’s vaguely less drunk and he gets up carefully and makes his way downstairs. He finds Zayn in the kitchen with some girl and he leaves them alone, goes outside. He tweets an obligatory tweet.

 

“Why are you out here all alone?” someone Harry doesn’t know or recognise slurs in his ear. Harry shrugs and they nudge him a little too hard. “You can’t be fucking lonely at a new years party, come on, I’ll get you a drink” Harry thinks it’s probably not a good idea but he follows the stranger anyway, accepts the drink they offer him.

 

 

 

 

Harry’s lying on the sofa with a pizza box balanced on his back while Zayn alternates between eating and petting his hair with his greasy fingers. He's too drunk to care. Zayn tried to make him eat but it only make him feel sick and they gave up, miraculously Harry hasn’t thrown up tonight yet.

 

“Happy 2020 by the way” Zayn says

 

“Yeah, you too” Harry sounds sleepy now and Zayn leans down to peer at him. Most people have left now and he's not sure what time it is. Zayn finishes the pizza and tosses the box off to the side to sort out later.

 

“What about your carpet?” Harry asks

 

“What?”

 

“You don’t want to stain it”

 

“Fuck” Zayn pushes Harry off him and gets up to shove the box on the table before it can ruin his white furnishings, “Thanks” he sits back down and Harry instantly moves to lean across him again.

 

“It might not have been the best new years but it was alright”

 

“Thanks I guess” Zayn says with a laugh

 

 

 

The first few weeks of January come and go and Harry goes away for a bit because winter is depressing and he feels bad enough except waking up to it being warm makes him feel only a little better. He writes some stuff, shreds everything he writes because it’s shit, sees some old friends, gets drunk and calls Zayn most days to unload his problems because Zayn was always good at listening and giving decent advice.

 

 

 

zayn (Harry is very minimalist _): Are you back yet?_

**_No, why?_ **

_Missing you xoxxox_

**_Course you are_ **

_I am!_

**_Hmm_ **

_Come back soon, please!_

**_I’ll text you when I do_ **

_J xxooox_

It’s early February when Harry arrives at Zayn’s wearing probably more clothes than Zayn has ever seen him wear and he can’t help but laugh fondly when Harry shows him the two jumpers he has on.

 

“Want a drink, something alcoholic? Some wine?” Zayn asks with a smirk. Since New Year wine is on Harry’s to avoid forever list.

 

“Fuck off”

 

“Charming”

 

“I am”

 

“I’ll surprise you”

 

“I’m mildly terrified” Harry goes to flop on the sofa because he’s still a bit jetlagged and Zayn’s sofa is far more comfy than his own and maybe he should ask Zayn if he can come and live on it, so he doesn’t have to be alone so much. He’s pathetic and he doesn’t even care.

 

“Et voila” Harry looks up as Zayn sets his drink down on the table. It looks like the unhealthiest hot chocolate ever created with seemingly half a can of squirty cream on top, a dozen marshmallows, multi-coloured sprinkles and a flake.

 

“Wow”

 

“Ten out of ten for effort?”

 

“Eleven out of ten for effort” Harry says pulling the flake out.

 

“Figured you needed it”

 

“Thanks” he’s not sure if it tastes good because it is or because he’s happy Zayn went to the effort of making it.

 

“Have you heard from . . ?”

 

“No, not yet”

 

“Oh”

 

“Yeah” Zayn reaches for the TV remote and flicks it on, putting one of those terrible documentaries Harry loves so much on, this one about overweight pets.

 

“The problem is, if I had a pet, I’d be one of those people” Harry says, “I just couldn’t resist those eyes”

 

“And the whining” Zayn points out

 

“That too” they watch the show and then another one and then something about airport security in Australia where some guy has a suitcase full of mousetraps.

 

“I guess there are worse things he could have”

 

“Yeah” Harry has migrated to lying half sprawled across Zayn’s lap, Zayn’s fingers working gently through his hair. He glances over at the time.

 

“Are you planning on leaving anytime?”

 

“No”

 

“That’s fine” they only move to order takeaway pizza from some fancy place Zayn went to once when he was feeling a bit fancy.

 

“This pizza is gross” Harry says, finally giving in and setting the slice he’s been forcing himself to eat for the past 10 minutes back in the box.

 

“Really?” Zayn sounds stunned and reaches for another slice, “I’d have thought out of all of us you’d share my love for fancy takeaways”

 

“Zayn, you order a takeaway for a reason, if you want fancy food you can just eat out somewhere” Zayn reaches over to where they discarded his stack of menus on the coffee table.

 

“I think there’s a Dominos leaflet in there somewhere” another hour later and Harry finally has some pizza he likes and Zayn’s moved onto eating Harry’s pizza as well as his own.

 

“Well at least I’m doing the break up properly this time,” he says with a weak smile

 

“Want some ice cream as well? I think I’ve even got some of those ice cream sandwiches you used to like”

 

“Might as well go the whole hog” Harry thanks Zayn later when they’re in bed and maybe Zayn isn’t Louis but he’s glad he’s there anyway.

 

 

 

Harry wakes up to a voicemail towards the end of January.

_“Harry? Hi, it’s me, you know though . . . obviously . . . sorry. I was thinking a lot over Christmas you know? Cliché”_ Louis breaks off to laugh _, “And, maybe I was too hasty, I’m not saying things are going to go straight back to being amazing between us but maybe we can work towards that? Maybe we can take things slow, fucking hell this is so cheesy sorry, if you’d like that? So yeah, ring me back when you get this. Bye”_

“How was your New Year?” Harry asks and Louis grimaces

 

“Everyone told me I was having fun, I can’t remember a bloody thing”

 

“Must have been good then”

 

“How was yours?”

 

“I’ve had worse, I’ve had better”

 

“What did you do?”

 

“Went to Zayn’s . . .”

 

“Oh”

 

“We should have our own new year, since we both had questionably good ones”

 

“What do you want to do, go out?”

 

“Yeah” and Louis sounds so excited that Harry really can’t say otherwise.

 

 

 

Harry’s not entirely sure seeing Louis have a fight with a drunk guy over a piece of chewing gum is much better than Zayn’s terrible new year’s party. At least then it was actually the new year and it felt like a new beginning or some shit. This however is mildly funny and more so ridiculous. He taps Louis on the shoulder and tries to guide him away from the guy who’s chewing obnoxiously on the piece of gum by now.

 

“Fucking bastard” Louis shouts as he’s led away and Harry smiles politely at a bored looking bouncer. “That was my fucking gum the . . . cock end”

 

“Cock end, wow Lou, maybe you should have been the English teacher rather than Zayn”

 

“You can fuck off too” Louis says although he tucks his hand neater in Harry’s as they go back inside to hopefully have a less dramatic time.

 

 

 

They get back when it’s nearly 4am and Harry has never felt less tired. He leans against the wall momentarily after he shuts the door because his head is spinning and Louis slides into him on his socked feet.

 

“Do you polish the floor?” he asks

 

“Someone comes in”

 

“They do a good job” Louis moves away to slide down the hall and Harry watches him with a fond smile. Some of the dizziness has gone and he follows Louis, only stumbling slightly.

 

“I’m hungry” Louis says

 

“I think I’ve maybe got . . .”

 

“No, I want pizza, you can’t go out for the night and not have pizza”

 

“You should have decided that when we were actually out, we could have gone to the takeaway . . .”

 

“Hey, I’m drunk, I don’t have the best brain right now . . . we can order something”

 

“By the time it comes you’ll be passed out asleep on the sofa”

 

“Wake me up then?” Louis asks and he’s so cute sometimes he physically pains Harry.

 

“Okay fine, I’ll try and find a menu or something” Louis smiles so bright and goes to sit down in the lounge. Harry clutches a hand to his spinning head and goes to leaf through a pile of leaflets he’s got stacked on the side and before he can find something Louis has fallen asleep.

 

_Weekly date nights_ Louis texts him one night when Harry’s binge watching some TV programme Zayn recommended which he thinks is terrible. He hasn’t moved in hours apart from to shake the cookie crumbs from his blanket and he thinks he should do a food order which consists entirely of avocados.

**What**

_That was our problem, we didn’t have them_

**Oh, okay then**

_You don’t sound too excited!_

**Are we going to do boring stuff like going to the cinema and then drinks?**

_You can choose whatever you like for yours. I’m not telling you what my idea is, it’s a surprise_

**Okay then, I’m up for that** he sends a mess of emojis to try and communicate his unbearable excitement.

 

 

 

“Okay, I may have seen this tumblr post about it . . .” Louis says a few days later

 

“Does it involve us going to art galleries and telling each other we’re more beautiful than some fancy ass painting?”

 

“I thought you were the cultured one? Anyway I did see that but I thought it was a bit puke worthy so we can stay away from that”

 

“Did you just say puke worthy?” Harry asks and Louis pointedly ignores him.

 

“Instead we’re going to do as many of these things as we can in one night” Louis pulls out a crumpled piece of paper from his back pocket and hands it to Harry. He looks it over. It’s titled simply _Date Night Ideas_.

 

“You know how terrible at acting I am” he says when he reads one about dramatically acting out a movie scene in front of a security camera so the security guard can have a bit of a laugh.

 

“We can skip that one”

 

“Can we start with the one about the cake?”

 

“I was hoping you’d say that”

 

 

 

 

The plan is to go around restaurants and see how much free cake they can get when pretending it’s one of their birthdays. The problem is that some people know enough about them to know it’s not their birthdays, a few people give them free cake anyway for trying and by the fifth slice they’re a little hyper. Louis stops them outside the restaurant so he can lean against the wall while he calms down from a particularly loud burst of laughter and Harry complains about being far too full.

 

“Lou, this was a shitty ideas because I think I hate cake”

 

“You know what, so do I” Louis says and lets out a burp which echoes.

 

“Fucking hell Lou . . .” Louis just starts giggling again and has to press himself against Harry to muffle his laughter. When they’re both relatively calm Louis kisses Harry.

 

“Can we do something that involves lots of sitting down?”

 

“Do you want to do the art thing?”

 

“Honestly that sounds pretty great right now”

 

 

 

It’s half an hour to closing time at the art gallery and they get in by giving the security guy autographs and making a video for his kids and they run up the stairs with 20 minutes to go before realising how bad an idea it was when they collapse onto a bench with stitches.

 

“Lou” Harry whines, “We could be at my house doing something which involves not having a stitch”

 

“You’re so boring” Louis says but pulls Harry against his side anyway, “We can do that for your date night”

 

“Come on then, we’d better look around” Harry says with a sigh and Louis links their hands together. When they start to look around it becomes obvious they’re not particularly good at appreciating art even if Harry tries to be.

 

“That guy looks like you, looks he’s got his cock out,” Louis says as they’re passing a portrait which takes up half the wall space. They giggle so much they have to sit down again.

 

“I feel like tonight was a failure”

 

“I had fun,” Louis pouts and Harry can’t resist but kiss him.

 

“I did too, it just wasn’t particularly romantic”

 

“We can build up to that” Louis says, “We’ve got time”

 

“We’ve got all the time we want”

 

“ _The art gallery will be closing in two minutes_ ”

 

“Unless you want to sleep on the bench we’d better get going”

 

“You know me I can sleep anywhere” Harry points out

 

“Yeah, and then you complain like mad about your back the next day”

 

“Love me and my faults”

 

“Which there are lots of” Louis teases

 

“I’m leaving you here” Harry says getting up although his plan to run away is hindered by his ever-present stitch.

 

“Your attempt at leaving me was shitty,” Louis says getting up as well and linking his arm through Harry’s.

 

“Hmm, maybe it’s because I don’t really want to”

 

“I don’t want you to either” Harry can’t help but kiss him even as another announcement comes through the speakers and they semi speed walk downstairs.

 

 

 

They take a taxi back home and collapsing onto the sofa is really the only thing either of them want to do.

 

“I kind of expected to see you on the cover of NME one day” Louis says

 

“What, on the same page as that guy from _Catfish and the Bottlemen_ . . ?” Louis frowns and Harry kisses his cheek and strokes a hand through his hair, “Or some indie band from Brixton that sounds the same as any indie band from Birmingham or Sheffield . . .”

 

“You’re just bitter you’re not fronting one of those bands”

 

“I’m not cool enough” Harry says with a pout.

 

“Aw baby, I think you’re cooler than Noel Gallagher”

 

“Cooler than Morrissey?”

 

“Now that’s pushing it a little . . .”

 

“Yeah I guess so” they lull into a silence and Harry nudges his way onto Louis’ lap. “Was it easier though, when I left, when you didn’t have to go stunting anymore? When you didn’t have to lie so much?”

 

“How can you ask that?”

 

“Was it though?” Harry presses and Louis sighs, pulls on a stray curl and lets it ping back into shape

 

“I miss how pretty your hair was longer”

 

“You never saw it in person”

 

“I still miss it though”

 

“Maybe I’ll grow it again” Harry knows Louis is avoiding the question and maybe he doesn’t actually want an answer, maybe it will be too hard to hear.

 

“Only if you want to though”

 

“I think I’m ready for another change”

 

“It’ll be a longwinded one” Louis warns

 

“I can cope with that”

 

 

_“Joint lit happy days, eh?” Louis says, breathing out a cloud of smoke in the already hazy room. Zayn throws a pillow at him._

_“Don’t say that again ever” Louis smirks and Zayn just leans his head back because keeping it up is far too much for him just now. The show went well and Louis had slid his arm round Zayn’s waist afterwards and Zayn knew. They were a bundle of post show energy and come downs in the car back from the venue and Louis passed his half finished cigarette to Harry who took it wordlessly and Louis slid his hand into Harry’s, fingers brushing his palm lightly._

_“Harry?” Louis turns around on the bed to look at Harry who is lying across it, shirt ridden up and hair fanned out against the white hotel sheets._

_“Hmm?” he says slowly, steadily, as if having to work extra hard to get his mouth to do what he wants. His eyes focus on Louis at last and Louis smiles at him, touches his hand._

_“You okay there baby?”_

_“Hmm, yeah” Harry says and Louis laughs softly, can’t help but shift closer to him to lean down and kiss him. Harry lets him do most of the work, his hand holding onto Louis’ waist loosely and his mouth slack as Louis licks into it._

_“Please” Zayn says, not nearly as exasperated as he makes out to be. Louis pulls back with a giggle, turns around to face Zayn before getting up and moving closer to the window._

_“Sorry, get a little distracted sometimes” Zayn shrugs as if to reinforce how much he’s used to it by now, how used they all are it by now._

_“Is Harry okay?” Zayn asks, stands up and stretches gracefully. Louis’ tired, very tired, and only watches as Zayn makes his way to the bed with careful steps and perches on the edge, slides his arm around Harry to hold himself on the side of the bed. He leans down and mumbles something quietly and Harry mumbles something back. There’s something that makes Louis feel terribly content about being here, wherever they are, and getting pleasantly high with Harry and Zayn. He takes another deep drag and exhales slowly, watches as the smoke goes out of the window. He turns his attention to the bed where Zayn is still perching precariously on the edge and has his hand stroking through Harry’s hair. Harry looks entirely fucked out and Louis smiles to himself, he probably should have stopped Harry taking a pill before the concert, or stopped him from smoking. The problem is he can never say no to Harry’s pretty, pleading eyes and the way he works his mouth. Harry can be terribly persuading when he wants to be. Louis sheds his jacket because it’s too warm and gets on the bed, crawls over to Harry._

_“Baby” he coos, resting his head on his chest and looking up at Harry. The problem he has is Harry is too pretty and Louis can’t resist pressing little kisses up his neck and along to his lips. Zayn shakes his head and goes to sit back in the armchair. “How are you feeling?”_

_“Sleepy, hungry, horny” Harry answers, flicking his eyes up to look at Louis and Louis smirks at him and unbuttons the three remaining buttons on his shirt. He runs his hand across the soft curve of his stomach and the hard lines of his ribcage._

_“In what order do you want to rectify those problems?” Louis asks and Harry doesn’t answer, just reaches a hand up to pull Louis back against his mouth. Louis goes easily, sits across his hips and moves gently against him. Harry whines low in his throat when Louis pulls away with a smile. Louis helps Harry sit up and steadies him with a hand to his waist._

_“You okay?” Harry nods and Louis smooths a hand through his crumpled curls._

_“I should get going” Zayn says_

_He's incredibly tired and content and stands up to leave. Louis is petting at Harry, cooing at him about how good and pretty he is and Harry loves the attention so, so much. Zayn leaves as Louis is pulling back the covers and lying Harry down. The soft looks he gives him and his gentle touches are almost sickeningly sweet and Zayn would roll his eyes if he didn’t love how much they love each other. He goes back to his room and takes a quick shower to clear his head slightly before getting into bed himself._

 

Louis is out coaching and Harry is over at Zayn’s having a _small_ glass of wine mixed with copious amounts of lemonade.

 

“Strong enough?” Zayn asks and Harry gives him the finger and sets his glass down.

 

“So, things are really working our for you and Louis huh?”

 

“Yeah, they really are”

 

“Oh god”

 

“What?”

 

“You’ve got that face . . . “

 

“What _face_?”

 

“The _Louis_ face”

 

“And what the fuck is that?”

 

“It simultaneously combines ‘oh my god I love him so much he’s the light of my life, my knight in shining armour, the guy I share my heart with . . .’” Harry snorts so loud Zayn’s glad the TV is on so the neighbours won’t hear and think it’s him,

 

“As well as conveying how well he fucked you last night”

 

“I’m pretty sure it doesn’t say _that_ ”

 

“Probably not, but he did right?”

 

“Well . . .”

 

“See, the Louis face, it’s a classic. Louis has one too, a sign of being loved up I guess. I’m probably jealous and bitter at heart which is why I’ve brought it up”

 

“You probably had a Louis face too at one point, I’m pretty sure we all did”

 

“Maybe” Zayn frowns

 

“You should come over one day, when Louis is in, talk to him. Work things out”

 

“I don’t think so. I was shit faced drunk last time, of course me and Louis got on, I don’t think it’ll happen again” Zayn says

 

“Well . . .”

 

“And before you suggest anything I’m not getting drunk every time I meet up with Louis”

 

“It might get a little bit unhealthy . . .”

 

“Exactly”

 

“So, that’s more reason for you to just come over one night” Zayn sighs

 

“You’re so determined aren’t you?”

 

“Yeah” Harry smiles brightly and looks up at Zayn, “Please. You were the one who told me I should talk to Louis again and look where it got me, I’m not saying in a dramatic turn of events you and Louis are going to elope or something but you can share cute cigarette breaks like you always used to on tour”

 

“They were pretty cute” Zayn sighs but shakes his head “You might have Louis wrapped round your finger . . .”

 

“Don’t lie to yourself, you’re just as whipped”

 

“Fucking . . . Yeah, sure, maybe. Text me yeah?”

 

“Great!” Zayn picks up the remote, “So, the Harry Potter channel or Tattoo Fails?”

 

“Tough choice”

 

 

 

 

Harry is sat flicking through TV channels idly while Louis makes coffee and he thinks it’s as good a time as any to tell Louis he invited Zayn to gate-crash their date night.

 

“I invited Zayn to come with us by the way,” Harry says offhandedly and by the sound of Louis swearing it surprises him. “You okay in there love?”

 

“Fuck . . . yes . . .”

 

“I’m coming” Louis has spilt the coffee, the very expensive coffee Harry went out and bought that morning, all over the kitchen table and floor.

 

“Sorry baby” Harry sighs and pretends to look annoyed before Louis pouts so adorably that he can’t resist but go over to press him against the kitchen counter and kiss him

 

“When life gives you spilt coffee . . .”

 

“Fucking clean it up” Louis mumbles against him

 

“Well you can, you spilt it”

 

“I thought you came in here to help!”

 

“I will help, by watching”

 

“Fucking rude . . .”

 

“Okay I’ll help you out” Louis hops up on the counter and watches as Harry brushes up the coffee.

 

“So, Zayn?”

 

“Oh yeah, I invited him to come with us”

 

“On a date night?”

 

“It’s not specifically a date night is it?”

 

“I mean, it’s us, going out, together I kind of thought . . .”

 

“Oh, well rain check on the date thing?” Louis sighs

 

“Me and Zayn . . .”

 

“I get that things are kind of weird between you but I’ve talked to you both now and you both want things to work out again”

 

“I appreciate you trying, I just don’t think . . .”

 

“Can you at least try? If things get awkward we can leave and I won’t try again”

 

“It’s a good job I love you”

 

“Is that a yes?”

 

“Yes, okay” Harry sets the brush aside and goes over to kiss Louis again.

 

“It’ll be fun”

 

 

 

Zayn is waiting outside when they get there and Harry takes hold of Louis’ hand and Louis smiles a little and maybe things can be okay.

 

“Have you been here long?” Harry asks when they’re close enough

 

“Little bit” Zayn shrugs

 

“Sorry” maybe putting off doing the washing in favour of having sex against the washing machine wasn’t such a good idea when Louis didn’t have any jeans to wear and is looking a little dressed down in his ‘good’ sweatpants. Louis and Zayn smile at each other a little tightly and Harry sighs.

 

“Okay, things can either be super weird between you two or you can get over whatever happened because I know you both want to” Louis shrugs

 

“This worked for us so . . .” he holds his hand out for Zayn, “Hey, I’m Louis” Zayn glances between Louis and Harry before taking his hand.

 

“Zayn, good to meet you again”

 

 

 

Bowling a good choice of activity because it gives Louis and Zayn some time to talk but not enough for it to become awkward. Zayn, as usual, is amazing and try as they might Harry and Louis trail behind him in terms of their scores.

 

“Fucking hell” Louis mutters when he ball goes into the gutter and Zayn smirks a little. “How are you so fucking good?”

 

“I’d show you how to be better but I don’t want you to beat me” Zayn says

 

“Zayn!”

 

“Louis!”

 

“Fucking bastard . . .” Louis grumbles but he’s half joking and things aren’t too weird and the evening on the whole is going okay. Harry goes to get Louis a milkshake halfway through the evening and when he gets back Zayn is demonstrating how to score a perfect strike.

 

“Thanks” Louis says

 

“No problem” seeing Louis and Zayn together again, both their fingertips stained with nicotine and their shaving patterns irregular, makes Harry feel all sorts of happy and relieved. Zayn and Louis needed each other when they were on tour. Zayn understood Louis like he couldn’t sometimes and the time they spent before and after shows was so important for the both of them.

 

“Harry it’s your go” Louis says and takes his milkshake off him with a smile. Zayn perches on the edge of the bench behind them and Louis stands to his side to watch Harry have his go and it’ll take some time for Zayn and Louis to get back to where they were but if he and Harry can fix things then anyone can.

 

 

 

 

 

**

 

 

“It’s probably time I asked the big question” Harry says and Louis pauses from where he’s pairing socks together.

 

“What question?”

 

“Do you want to move in?”

 

“Oh” Louis says and he smiles before nodding and then he's beaming, “Yeah, yeah I do”

 

“And it has nothing to do with my excellent home skills?” Harry teases

 

“Love, you don’t even cook anymore, it has nothing to do with that,” he says before getting up and sliding onto the sofa next to Harry

 

“Great, when should we do it?”

 

 

 

Louis has kind of half moved in already but unpacking boxes and having the rest of his stuff there is comforting and nice in a way Harry thinks he’s missed. He’s in charge of hanging Louis’ clothes up while Louis takes the chance to sort through his stupidly large DVD collection and send some of them to the charity shop. Harry hangs three of Louis’ coats up next to his and it’s so strange to see them together again.

 

“When was the last time you watched _Toy Story_?” Louis asks padding into the bedroom and perching on the bed.

 

“Hm, which one?”

 

“The second”

 

“Can’t remember” Harry frowns then turns around, “Wait, that’s not one you’re considering getting rid of is it?”

 

“Well maybe”

 

“Lou! You’re not allowed to move in if you’re going to get rid of _Toy Story_ , it’s a classic”

 

“You just said you hadn’t seen it in ages”

 

“Well what if we want to! What do we do then?”

 

“I’ll shelve it next to that collection of One Direction DVDs you’ve got then”

 

“They were a joke Christmas present once” Harry says and Louis shakes his head

 

“Right, I’ve still got 2 boxes of films to sort through”

 

“I think you’ve got a problem”

 

“I can never resist the cheap DVDs they put at the end of the check outs”

 

“I’ll go food shopping instead then” Louis hasn’t got up and Harry hangs the last of Louis’ coats and sits down next to him. “It’s nice to have you back”

 

“Yeah, it’s nice to _be_ back”

 

 

 

 

 

Later, when everything is mostly sorted and there’s a ridiculous pile of cardboard in the kitchen for recycling, Louis suggests they watch _Toy Story 2._

 

“Can’t believe I was going to give this away,” Louis says, settling in more comfortably on the bed, “Class act this shit” Harry makes a small affirmative sound and Louis turns to look at him. “What’s bothering you?”

 

“What would we have done do you think if I’d have come back to the band? What would the reunion tour have looked like?” Louis leans back against the pillows and thinks. Harry’s breath is hot against his skin and he’s too warm under the covers but he can’t bring himself to move.

 

“We could have done stadiums again, do you remember when we did that?”

 

“Stadiums were good, too big though, we weren’t enough to fill the stage”

 

“We could have had back up dancers, maybe that’s all we were missing. We’re like, the only pop group who doesn’t have them”

 

“That could have been cute”

 

“Only I reckon by the third show they’d have been fired because parents would have complained about you using them as a prop to dance again. You always were a slut onstage,” Harry laughs and the vibration feels nice, feels _real_ , against his chest.

 

“Someone had to do something, we’d have looked boring otherwise”

 

“You certainly weren’t boring”

 

“Tell me more” Harry looks up at Louis and he thinks again.

 

“We can start with _Hey Angel_ because it’s a good opener, maybe you can even wear angel wings for the start of the show and it can become a thing, you could go the whole hog and wear a white dress as well. You’re a quick learner right, you can learn the lyrics to the new album”

 

“Lou, this is tour, not the bedroom and yeah, course I could”

 

“Best of both worlds, you wouldn’t even need to get changed afterwards. We’d still perform _What Makes You Beautiful_ though because even though it’s shitty and cringey it’s special, you know? It’s where we started”

 

“I still like the song though, really”

 

“So do I. Maybe we should all wear matching outfits again, like the first tour”

 

“With the sofa and everything?”

 

“Yeah”

 

“That’d kill the fans”

 

“It’d kill me, imagine it though”

 

“We could sing _Moments_ again, I know how much you like that one”

 

“Can we actually make this happen?” Louis says

 

“Of course, if we’re going to come back it has to be special” Harry rests his head more comfortably against Louis’ chest.

 

 

 

 

 

“You should write a song about me” Louis says coming up behind Harry and attaching himself to Harry’s back, arms wrapping around him.

 

“Lou, we already did”

 

“Yeah but this time it’ll be different, you can write it all yourself”

 

“I don’t think I can handle the creative freedom”

 

“I’m sure you’ll cope somehow”

 

“Or . . .”

 

“Or what?” Louis prompts

 

“Or we could write it together?” Harry asks and it’s painful almost how hopeful he sounds and Louis slides over the back of the sofa to deposit himself in Harry’s lap.

 

“Now that sounds like something I can get in board with”

 

“Really?”

 

“Sure” Louis says, hopefully kissing away the worry on Harry’s face. “It’ll be fun”

 

 

 

 

Louis has been spending more time at the football club recently and comes home with his fingers cold but his eyes alive because the team has been doing well.

 

“There’s one more game between us and going up a league next season” Louis had said

 

“That’s great . . .”

 

“Honestly, I’m sorry but you won’t understand what this means to us but this is the best thing that’s happened to the team and I’m just so fucking proud of them . . .” Louis breaks off, seemingly a little embarrassed or something.

 

“I’m proud of you then, for getting them there”

 

“Thanks” Louis smiles a little shyly before beaming.

 

“I did do a fucking good job, didn’t I?” they just laugh.

 

 

It’s halftime and Harry’s freezing his butt off and the team are winning 1-0. Louis paces the side lines, anxious, trying not to be annoyed when they do something wrong and the other side nearly scores. Harry watches him and it’s obvious how much this means to him, how much this means to the team. It’s the kind of thing that Louis would have loved when he was growing up and he’s always been the most giving out of all of them, the most willing to give up his time for others.

 

“Well done Ben, that’s exactly how we practised things”

 

Success isn’t their awards lined up on a shelf or the money in their bank accounts. Success is the smile on Louis’ face when the referee ends the match and how happy the kids look on the pitch to have won. And maybe Harry is just starting to realise that Louis doesn’t need to be out there onstage every night, to feel like he’s achieved something, he need only look around him, at his team crowded around him, elated to feel like that. And maybe the reason Louis loved being in the band as much as he did was because they were out there most nights for the fans. And being selfless and doing things for other people always seemed like second nature for Louis.

 

 

 

 

“I think the worst thing was that we never stopped lying to the fans,” Harry says slowly, cautiously, like if he says too much Louis is going to stop them trying to get back what they have. Louis rests his hand on Harry’s laces their fingers together gently and Harry seems to relax a little although the small crease between his eyebrows doesn’t go away

 

“What do you mean love?” he prompts, knows Harry needs it.

 

“We never told them the truth about us, and then I left and we just kept pretending like nothing had happened between us, like we weren’t together and they still don’t know. No one knows anything about us, not really anyway”

 

“You think far too much” Louis tries to joke but it sounds sad almost and Harry looks at Louis

 

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t . . .”

 

“No, it’s fine, I guess we need to talk about stuff like this” it would be easier for Louis to just press Harry back against the mattress and kiss him, to feel how well they still fit together and the steady rise and fall of his chest, how this is all very _real_. That wouldn’t really help anything though and Louis can’t keep lying to himself, can’t pretend like the past 5 years haven’t happened and that things and back to how they always were, because they’ve still got some way to go.

 

“What should we do about it then?”

 

“There’s nothing we can do” Harry says, “Which is what sucks the most, we can’t undo anything” Louis thinks that even though Harry is there, next to him, he's still not got Harry back, not the same Harry he was in love with for years anyway and his chest feels empty and he can only curl his fingers tighter against Harry’s.

 

“We need to stop living in the past,” Louis says and his words sound awful and hopeful, hang emptily in the air. “It would be so easy for us to” he adds like he's trying to convince Harry.

 

“Yeah, maybe we should”

 

“If we can’t change anything then what’s the point, we should just focus on now and the fact you’re here and you’re not going anywhere again”

 

“No” and Harry says it with such force and Louis believes him, really believes him.

 

“Promise me”

 

“I promise” Louis holds out his little finger and Harry links his with it

 

“It’s a pinkie promise now, it’s bad luck forever if you break it”

 

“I won’t break it”

 

“No” Louis leans in to kiss Harry because it’s the only thing he knows how and maybe they’re not quite okay yet but they will be, hopefully, Harry promised they would try anyway. Louis thinks he left his heart with Harry and he's just finding it now, realising that it was never really lost just being kept safe until they were ready to try again. Because they didn’t fall so deeply in love when they were so young for nothing, for it to be ruined by a stupid decision and some regrettable feelings.

 

 

 

 

“I wondered sometimes” Harry begins before stopping and Louis tightens his arm around his waist, leans in and kisses him softly

 

“What love?”

 

“I sometimes wondered what would have happened if we hadn’t fallen in love, if one of us hadn’t got through the auditions or I’d have fallen for Zayn or something or it had been a crush and ended at that”

 

Falling in love with Louis wasn’t always easy. It was terrible lying to the fans as if it was such a bad thing, it had been

 

“And what do you think would have happened?” Louis asks quietly and Harry’s chest feels a little tight

 

“I didn’t really like thinking about it, it wasn’t nice. No matter how shitty things might have been it doesn’t matter because I wouldn’t have wanted anything else, you were always so perfect for me”

 

“Fucking hell” Louis says with a short laugh, “Did you spend our time apart writing those soppy poems inside cards or something?”

 

“I mean, I might have looked online occasionally . . .”

 

“How best to win back your ex kind of thing?”

 

“Exactly, I’ve got a puppy downstairs as well and some flowers”

 

“I never really liked flowers”

 

“No you didn’t, remember that valentines when I got you that special flower shaped vibrator instead”

 

“Whatever happened to that?”

 

“I think we left it in the hotel room in Paris, I’d love to have seen whoever found its face”

 

“Priceless”

 

“Actually it was quite expensive . . .” Louis loves Harry, he loves it when Harry is dumb and dorky and when he’s being genuinely romantic and when he’s being both at once or neither at all.

 

“Why didn’t you wait though? Why didn’t you wait until we’d finished and then we could have been together properly”

 

“You know that’s not true” Harry says and it’s half sad and half so utterly angry that it surprises the both of them, “You know we still had a year and a half at least of hiding and pretending, it was stifling”

 

“How did you decide?”

 

“I didn’t just wake up one day and think oh I know what’s a good idea, I’m going to leave the band”

 

“I never thought that”

 

“I’d been thinking about it and deciding it was a ridiculously stupid idea for months before I did it”

 

“So what made you actually do it?”

 

“It wasn’t anything specific really . . .” Harry frowns, “Just, I thought I should probably stop wishing I could do it and actually do it”

 

“I still wish you’d talked to me about it, that’s the one thing I still don’t understand”

 

“Neither do I, really, I guess I was just scared you’d talk me out of it, or confuse me more and by then I was so certain that I needed to do it, that I was just staying because I had it into me head that I had to, for the fans, for you guys . . .”

 

 

 

 

Louis isn’t actively searching to find them is the thing. He stumbles upon the draw when he’s searching for a very specific pair of socks which on further reflection he’s not entirely sure why. He ‘s already pulled open and rummaged through the bedside table, the chest of draws on the back wall and the shelves in the wardrobe. The last resort is the ‘random crap drawers’ they have which, quite self explanatory, is full of junk they have that they’re not quite sure what to do with. Maybe Harry found the socks on a tidy and just shoved them in there. It’s worth a shot. Louis checks the top three draws with no luck and sighs as he kneels down to check the bottom draw. It’s there, nestled in the bottom along with an abundance of ugly jumpers Louis didn’t want to get rid of for some reason, is a collection of Harry’s headscarves. Louis inhales sharply when he finds them because it feels like forever since he saw them. It’s like his braces and Harry’s bowties, it reminds him of past times, not who they are now. He rubs the silky material between two fingers, pulls it out and looks at it. It’s one of the plain ones Harry wore when he was still a little unsure if he wanted it to become a thing or not. Louis remembers the day Harry came home with it and asked him to help put it in, to see if it looked good or not. It took them a few times to get it right but Louis thought Harry looked so pretty when it worked out for them. It was practical as well, helped keep his hair away from his face when it was in-between being short still and long. He ditched them when he decided he didn’t need them anymore but now he’s got it in his hand Louis can’t help but think about what Harry would look like with it in now.

 

“Hey Lou, did you find those socks?” Harry asks, not looking up from his phone. He's sprawled out on the sofa, shirt risen up to expose his soft little stomach and Louis can’t help but slide down the armrest to sit impossibly close next to him, fingers going to play with his hair because he's been thinking about it ever since he found the scarf.

 

“No, but guess what I did find”

 

“What?” Harry asks, he’s gone a little slack from having Louis’ fingers pet at his curls and Louis can’t help but smile fondly because Harry can be far too cute sometimes. He’s a dreadful sap when it comes to Harry he openly admits.

 

“This” Louis fumbles in his pocket and pulls out the length of material. Harry frowns a little at it for a moment until his eyes so wide in recognition.

 

“Oh” he sits up straighter and reaches for the scarf. Louis lets him have it and watches as he rubs the silky fabric between his fingers. “This was a while ago”

 

“Yeah it was” Louis says and for some reason he kind of wants Harry to put it in again, see what it looks like now. Harry must be thinking along the same lines because he holds it against his hair.

 

“Does it still suit me?” Louis’ mouth has gone a little dry because yes, of course it does. It might not be very Harry now, but it’s a part of who he used to be, how he got to be here. It’s a part of them, of their history together. Louis shouldn’t be getting so sentimental about a strip of fabric that cost far more than it’s worth but he can’t help it. He reaches out to take the fabric out of Harry’s grip. Harry lets him, sits still as Louis works the scarf into his hair the way he’s done a hundred times before. It’s different now, slightly, because his hair is longer and he’s out of practise. He sits back and stares once it’s in as best he can. Harry reaches a hand up to pet at it; it feels foreign after not wearing it for so long.

 

“Does it look okay?” Louis nods and leans forwards to kiss Harry. It’s soft and gentle and his hand goes to play with his hair. He’s not entirely sure he likes the scarf anymore. He loves Harry’s hair now, loves how long and pretty it is. Loves how it bounces ever so slightly when he moves his head, loves how it curls at the ends, loves having something to tangle his fingers in. Without hesitation he pulls at the bow and undoes the scarf.

 

“It’s pretty, but . . .” Harry frowns ever so slightly, “Maybe it’s not quite you anymore, maybe not quite us anymore, you know?” and Harry does know because falling back in love with Louis is exactly like it used to be except not at all. Not better exactly, but different in a positive way, in ways they couldn’t have imagined when things were shitty and the band was too much and things weren’t what they thought they could be.

 

 

 

 

 

It’s a few weeks later when Louis remembers when they’re lying in bed together even though they probably should have got up a while ago but Louis clutched hold of Harry limpet style and Harry gave in. Louis can’t help but give Harry little glances every so often because he's started wearing his glasses more often now Louis has been given the big reveal. Louis thinks if they hadn’t have been put in the same band he'd quite liked to have bumped into Harry wearing his glasses and maybe a cute jumper in some terribly cliché independent book shop or something. He’d probably have made a book pun Louis wouldn’t understand but would laugh anyway until Harry called him out and they could have bonded over that. He gets a little lost in his thoughts.

 

“Lou, are you thinking about something nice?”

 

“Hmm, just you love” Harry rolls his eyes

 

“You didn’t get less cheesy then?”

 

“Not at all, it’s part of my demeanour”

 

“Of course, so what was it?”

 

“Do you remember that list you made that time? When we were bored in the hotel in America” Harry’s about to say that there have been lots of bored nights spent in hotel rooms.

 

“Oh, fucking hell that was ages ago” they’d spent the night giggling over penning together a list of 30 things they’d wanted to do at some point, the more stupid the better.

 

“Yeah, I still remember it though”

 

“What was even on it?” Louis smirks

 

“I can only remember number 12 because it was the most interesting”

 

“Was that the tea thing?”

 

“Nope”

 

“Enlighten me”

 

“It was the ‘fuck in four places beginning with F’”

 

“Oh”

 

“Oh indeed”

 

“Are you suggesting we try and do it?”

 

“I guess that’s exactly what I’m suggesting” Harry leans over the side of the bed and retrieves his laptop.

 

“I should start looking at some flights then”

 

 

 

 

Finland, Florence, France, Florida. Louis checks online and books flight and hotels and rents a house for a week because he can and because Harry will like that and he likes spoiling Harry even though he always complains jokingly that Harry is too spoilt.

_“It’s your fault” Harry will say whenever he gets his own way and they’re ordering pizza instead of curry or listening to Harry’s playlist in the car. Most of the time though, even when they’re doing what Harry wants, he’ll make sure Louis gets what he wants even if the guy on the phone misheard him once and they ended up with curried pizza and Louis knows people eat chicken tikka pizza but this wasn’t that and was pretty vile._

_“I know, I know” Louis will grumble and Harry will lean over to kiss him and they’ll inevitably get distracted from whatever they’re planning on doing and neither of them will mind too much._

 

 

 

 

Their flight to Finland gets cancelled because of bad weather so they eat out at some Finnish restaurant in London Louis finds online. It’s not quite the experience they were expecting but Louis makes up for it by spilling his soup over himself when the waiter tries to give it to him and Louis tries to help him. The sight of Louis covered in the slightly weird smelling orange liquid, his mouth agape the waiter standing there flustered sets Harry off laughing. He’s still giggling about it when they’re in the taxi on the way back home.

 

“Well that was a disaster” Louis declares, shoving his still dripping jacket onto the other seat, Harry leans against his side.

 

“Not at all, it was something to remember”

 

“I wish we’d have made it to actual Finland” Louis grumbles and Harry just laughs again, easy, airily, and kisses him on the cheek. Louis takes his hand and pulls him closer, moves to kiss his lips.

 

“As long as you had fun” Louis says and it’s a little serious and Harry’s chest goes funny and he doesn’t quite feel like laughing anymore.

 

“Yeah I did, thanks” Harry leans back against the seat and doesn’t let go of Louis's hand.

 

 

 

Florida is hot. Too hot. They don’t do much more than sleep for far too long and sit around complaining about the heat when they are awake. Harry’s given up on wearing a shirt or his hair down which Louis isn’t exactly complaining about. They spend one morning seeing if Harry’s hair is still long enough to do fancy hairstyles. Louis manages to remember how to twist it into a small braid and a half bun and cute little space buns and takes pictures of them all.

 

“You should wear this when you’re in public next,” Louis says letting Harry see the picture. There are some strands which are too short to fit into the buns and they curl around his jaw and make the look softer. “It’s cute”

 

“I should, people would love that”

 

“Remember when you had short hair?”

 

“Please don’t, those were dark times” Louis laughs and fiddles with a stray curl

 

“If we’re being deep it was all part of a journey of self discovery . . .”

 

“Fuck off”

 

“You can’t put your shirt back on now, even if you wanted to” Louis points out, “I’ll be sad if you ruin my creation” he flicks a bun and giggles

 

“What a shame”

 

“For sure” Louis moves slightly closer and presses their lips together. Harry’s skin is warm and it’s uncomfortable to touch really because he’s too warm as well.

 

“I don’t want to ruin my hair” Harry says with a pout. Louis settles for working his hand along Harry’s cock until he comes before lying back and letting Harry suck him off. It’s hardly the most exciting or passionate thing they’ve ever done but it’s more than enough what with the heat. Harry sits back against the headboard when they’re done.

 

“I hate Florida” he says, “I’ve decided, we’re going to the north pole next, I’m going to photograph penguins”

 

“We already lost Niall to the wilderness, I can’t lose you too”

 

“You can come with me then”

 

“I don’t like snow”

 

“But you like penguins right?”

 

“Sure, who can resist their adorable waddle?”

 

“A heartless bastard”

 

“Which I’m not,” Louis points out

 

“Not at all” Louis snorts and lies back with a heavy sigh

 

“It’s too fucking hot!”

 

 

 

 

Louis is sick for the majority of their time in France and they only don’t go home because Louis threatens to projectile vomit if he even so much as sits up in bed. Harry’s spent the past two days changing channels on the TV at Louis’ request and ordering room service.

 

“It had to be France didn’t it?” Harry says, “City of love and we’re sitting here in the dark”

 

“France obviously hates us”

 

“Specifically France?”

 

“Definitely” Louis says, muffled from his cocoon and Harry peeks under it.

 

“How are you feeling? Honestly, any better?”

 

“A little” Louis says, “Maybe tomorrow I can stand up without my head pounding”

 

“Baby steps”

 

 

A few days later Louis is feeling better and while Harry is having an unnecessary nap Louis pens a few ideas down which he may or may not show to Harry later depending. Louis glances over at Harry before deciding that yes, watching someone sleep is not cute at all but very creepy and he turns back to his pen and the page in front of him.

 

 

 

“Lou we go come all the way to Florence and not see anything beyond the house” Harry complains when Louis turns down Harry’s suggestion that they do an 8 hour historical day trip.

 

“It may have escaped your notice but we haven’t actually been having much sex on these supposedly sex filled holidays”

 

“I guess not”

 

“And you like sex right?”

 

“I suppose” Louis gives him a gentle shove

 

“So you’ll excuse me for turning down your day trip which could instead be a day spent having _terribly_ romantic fun”

 

“I mean, I read reviews that the tour guide was hot . . .”

 

“Harry . . .”

 

“You know I can’t resist a hot tour guide”

 

“I know all too well, remember that time you got offered all those private tours?”

 

“I attract all the right people”

 

“Like me?”

 

“Especially you” Harry boops Louis on the nose, “You’re my particular favourite”

 

 

 

 

“Did you have some good sex while we weren’t together?”

 

“ _Lou_ ”

 

“What?” Louis asks innocently with a little giggle, “Did you though? I need to know”

 

“And why is that?”

 

“Want to inflate my ego more don’t I?”

 

“You’re impossible, but what if it was better?”

 

“What was better?”

 

“The sex I was having not with you”

 

“Oh, well that’s impossible”

 

“Hmm, maybe”

 

“Fuck off” Louis says sitting up and looking at Harry, “You didn’t actually have that good sex did you?”

 

“Maybe” Harry says

 

“Tell me! Come on, please, we tell each other everything”

 

“Maybe not _everything_ ”

 

“If I tell you will you tell me?”

 

“I’m not sure I want to know”

 

“Come off it, you’re just as curious”

 

“You shouldn’t make assumptions like that”

 

“It’s not an assumption if I know it’s true”

 

“Okay, go for it” Harry sits back

 

“Alright, it was a few months after you left . . .”

 

“Where were you?”

 

“America, we were on tour still”

 

“Who was it?”

 

“Some girl, met in some bar, took her back to the hotel, she left, pretty standard stuff”

 

“Nice”

 

“Not really, I kind of . . . it was like nothing ever really felt right. Like, it was okay, alright you know? But nothing . . . special”

 

“Are you calling me special?” Harry asks

 

“Maybe”

 

“Aw, that’s too cute!” Louis hits his arm lightly

 

“I’m going to regret that”

 

“Perhaps”

 

“Your turn” Louis isn’t too sure why this means so much to him, Harry is allowed to have fucked as many people as he wanted while they were apart.

 

“Which time do you want to hear about?”

 

“Surprise me”

 

“I mean, there was the time with Niall . . .” Louis looks half stunned and half horrified, Harry laughs, “I’m joking”

 

“Fucking hell . . .”

 

“Niall was always my second choice if we didn’t work out . . .”

 

“I don’t want to imagine what Niall’s like in bed”

 

“Irish?”

 

“Maybe his pillow talk is about potatoes”

 

“More likely about some sports star, like, you’re hot but have you seen Novak Djokovic? Now that’s someone I wouldn’t say no to”

 

“I ship that, for sure”

 

“Same”

 

“You’re avoiding talking about it” Louis points out.

 

“There was a few people I guess and then some guy who worked at the studio” Harry doesn’t look at Louis, “We saw each other for a bit and he wanted to make it more serious you know? And half of me thought that would be nice and the other didn’t want that at all so it ended. I don’t think I was ready for anything”

 

“I never found anyone either” Louis says

 

“No one felt right?” Harry asks and Louis looks at him

 

“Yeah, exactly” Louis laughs, “Why are we like this?”

 

“Like what?”

 

“So . . . connected. Like, even when we’re not together we’re together kind of because no one was ever right like you were”

 

“Freaky soul mate shit right there”

 

“Yeah” Louis laughs again but maybe there’s more sense to it.

 

 

 

“Okay, I’ve decided” Louis says at breakfast when really it’s far too early for him to be announcing ideas.

 

“Hmm?”

 

“You know that song you’ve been working on since we were dinosaurs?”

 

“No, doesn’t ring any bells” Louis flicks him the vs and carries on.

 

“Anyway, so it doesn’t come out post humanly I’ve decided that I’m going to be of great help and work on it with you. If I can of course” this is a bold decision on Louis’ part sure, but Harry likes it, likes that it means they’re back where they used to be. Where there were no boundaries between them.

 

“Alright sure, you’re pretty good with words”

 

“Thanks love”

 

 

 

Working on the song is easy and yet not. There’s almost too much to say and not really an easy way to say it. Louis crumples up countless pieces of paper and goes to make more tea while Harry scribbles through what he’s written and sits back, defeated.

 

 

 

“Now you can’t say I never did anymore singing” Louis says triumphantly and maybe it’s the song or maybe its just, and always has been, Louis and how much Harry loves him. Harry leas over and kisses him.

 

“Fucking hell I love you,” he says resting his forehead against Louis’

They do their first television interview together and Harry is more nervous than he thinks he should be and Louis tucks his hand into Harry’s and smiles at him and it doesn’t make him much less nervous but it’s nice. He’s still a little overwhelmed with what they’re allowed to do now, how they can do stuff like this, and in public as well, so freely. That they don’t have to hide and lie and pretend to be nothing when they’re everything.

 

“You’re on soon” someone pops into the room to say and Harry pulls on the hem of his shirt and Louis kisses him.

 

“We always talked about this”

 

“I guess I didn’t think about the nerves”

 

“It’s natural, this is a big thing”

 

“I’m happy though,” Harry says as if he needs to or something

 

“Same, obviously” Harry gives him a gentle push

 

 

“Louis, the band haven’t done anything for a few years now”

 

“No, I guess we just needed more time than we thought we would”

 

“So, is that a maybe we’ll come back statement?”

 

“Yeah, yeah, maybe” she smiles

 

“We’re not here to talk about that though, we’re here to talk about how you two are an item”

 

“Yeah” Harry says and can’t help but smile. Louis looks over at him and Harry always loved his real smile, when the corners of his eyes crinkled.

 

“People always wondered about you two and then you left the band Harry and everyone thought things were over for you, if there was even anything between you . . .”

 

“Yeah, there was, it was hard . . . but we managed to work things out” Harry moves his hand to cover Louis’ and it’s so natural and _nice_ and there aren’t any repercussions apart from the smile the interviewer gives them.

 

It’s a pretty last minute decision on the producer’s part to have them sing their song and the quick rehearsal they had half an hour before they came onstage doesn’t seem enough for the magnitude of what they’re about to do. The song, essentially a pretty raw song about the difficulties of everything they had to go through over their time in the band, is a little daunting and seems almost too personal for everyone to be hearing. Harry smooths down the front of his shirt and catches Louis running a hand through his hair more times than he strictly needs to and he catches his hand briefly and smiles and it’s so natural to do so and not being able to do this before seems even more ridiculous and awful. The audience is pretty small, smaller than some of the shows they used to do as a band, although neither of them are focused on more than trying to do the song justice. The interviewer introduces them and the first bars of the song start up and Louis taps his foot and Harry glances over at him before he has to sing and can’t anymore for fear of crying or something.

 

 

 

 

 

It’s a rare morning when Harry is making something other than toast or putting cereal into bowls and Louis slides into the kitchen on his socked feet and comes up behind Harry, hooking his chin over his shoulder.

 

“Morning” he says far too enthusiastically and Harry winces slightly, “Sorry”

 

“You’re happy this morning” Harry comments turning around and kissing Louis.

 

“I am, today’s a good day. Are you making pancakes by the way?” Harry nods

 

“I’m making up for the small disaster that was your pancakes . . .” Louis swats him playfully. In lieu of their American promo Louis decided it would be a great idea to make, well attempt to make, pancakes. (His limited success was unsurprising but Harry appreciated the effort anyway.)

 

“Fuck off, they were practically Michelin star!”

 

“I reckon they’d have given you the Michelin star just so they never had to eat them ever again . . .”

 

“So bitchy this morning baby . . .”

 

“Just telling the truth” Louis pouts and Harry kisses him again, “No, I’m sorry, they were great . . .”

 

“I never pretended to have gotten any better at cooking”

 

“Maybe I should enrol you on that cooking course I was going to ages ago . . .”

 

“Harry” Louis gives him a look, “It would be the biggest disaster”

 

“Yeah, funny though”

 

“Maybe” Harry turns back to the cooker and flips the pancake over. It’s pretty much perfect.

 

“How come even though you hate cooking now you’re still good at it?” Louis grumbles.

 

“Skill for life”

 

“I’ll just have to keep you around then won’t I?”

 

“I can deal with that”

 

 

 

 

Going off to America to promo their new material seems far too strange and nostalgic and when faced with deciding what to pack Harry is almost overwhelmed.

 

“Do you think I’ll need jumpers?”

 

“Pack some yeah” Louis says from his position on the bed, tossing Harry the three jumpers he’s got out of his draw to Harry on the floor. Harry folds them and packs them neatly into his suitcase. He reaches over to do the same to Louis’ before remembering that Louis is packing his own suitcase.

 

“Lou, I’m not sure that’s all going to fit in” Harry says on seeing the mountain stacked next to Louis on the bed, it’s threatening to fall on top of him soon.

 

“Now, now let’s not be too cynical. I’ve packed many a case without your help over the past few years”

 

“Alright, Mr. Independent”

The drive to the airport is nearly scuppered by a lover’s tiff about the weight of Louis’ very full suitcase.

 

“There was no need to help me I was perfectly capable of carrying it” Louis huffs as Harry pushes the rest of Louis’ case into the boot.

 

“Of course love” Harry says, booping Louis on the nose.

 

“Fuck off”

 

“You’re cute though”

 

“I’m not cute, this beard isn’t cute, it’s manly as fuck”

 

“Keep telling your fragile masculinity that”

 

“It’s not fragile . . . I’m comfortable in myself . . .” Louis grumbles as he gets in the passengers side.

 

“Did you lock the door?”

 

“Um . . .”

 

“ _Lou_!”

 

“Sorry!” Harry sighs but shakes his head fondly all the same and gets out. When he gets back Louis is fiddling with the radio.

 

“Good job I checked”

 

“We don’t want people stealing

 

 

 

They’re driven from the airport to wherever their first hotel is. Louis buys too many snacks when they stop off at the petrol station because he just had to, because snacks are far more interesting than in England. Harry shakes his head but they manage to get through them, even if as a consequence they end up on a sugar rush and Harry’s crying from laughter. Them being there, with the windows open even though it’s still far too hot, Louis’ laughter loud in his ears and his vision a little blurry things are so, so good.

 

 

 

 

“If this was a proper road trip we’d have booked some shady hotel somewhere not here” Harry says

 

“We’re promoting, not roadtripping, at least not yet. Anyway at least there’s room service here,” Louis points out, trying to steal some of the blackberry and apple crumble Harry ordered.

                                                                                                             

“Fuck off, this is mine” Harry says moving his plate out of reach of Louis’ spoon, trying his best to ignore the look he knows Louis is giving him.

 

“Meany”

 

“You did not just say ‘meany’”

 

“Meany” Harry relents and kisses Louis, offers the crumble.

 

“It’s not that good really”

 

“Is that the only reason you’re offering?”

 

“You know how much I like crumble”

 

“True, thanks love” they’re having a night off, doing nothing other than lying here and sleeping because driving knackered them out and Harry would already be asleep if someone wasn’t having sex a few rooms away and they didn’t have to turn the TV on to mask the noises. Currently they’re watching some chef attempt to make mushy peas sound a heck of a lot more fancy than simply mushy peas.

 

“I hate it when they do this” Louis says, waving his spoon around, “Like fuck off that’s mushy peas not peas de mash or whatever he just said”

 

“To be honest though I’d much rather eat peas de mash” Louis looks over at him

 

“You would”

 

 

They’re out for dinner and Harry grumbles and kicks Louis’ foot when Louis hogs the drinks menu.

 

“Oh, you can drink here now” Louis says as if he's only just realised that Harry is _old_ now and not 19 anymore.

 

“Yeah, wow, fascinating stuff” Louis ignores him and orders a beer for himself and something which sounds like an alcoholic Ribena for Harry. He always found it far too funny when the rest of them were getting drunk and Harry was sober until they took pity on him.

 

“We should definitely look into roadtripping properly” Louis says, “Do all the stuff we didn’t do because we were stuck in the hotel”

 

“I miss that sometimes,” Harry says, “Even if it was too much, it was nice that it meant the fans cared about us”

 

“You didn’t think that when you were tired and grumpy,” Louis teases

 

“Well, no, but when I wasn’t”

 

“Yeah, yeah I miss it too”

 

 

 

 

Louis is sat smoking by the window which is open wider than it should be since they broke the safety latch on so they could open it properly. Harry looks across at him and takes a far less sneaky picture than he’d like to when it clicks and Louis turns to look at him.

 

“Are you taking a selfie?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Are you taking a picture of me?”

 

“Maybe”

 

“You’re not very sure about anything are you?”

 

“Probably not” Harry says and Louis sighs loudly and Harry laughs and rolls onto the other side of the bed to look at Louis.

 

“You could just come here if you want” Louis says

 

“Tempting, but I’m too lazy just now” Louis responds by throwing the cigarette packet so it hits Harry’s head. “Thanks”

 

“If they complain about the room smelling or something you can pay the charges”

 

“Fine” Harry gets up and joins Louis by the window. He’s always been curious as to where everyone is going all the time, why they’re bothering to go anywhere when it’s 4am and even crossing the room is effort for him. Louis moves the make shift ashtray between them, can’t help his fingers trailing lightly along Harry’s thigh. Harry sets the packet aside in favour of pressing his lips against Louis’.

 

They spend a long time, far too long really, kissing in the window as if someone could look up and see them. Louis breath is hot against his cold skin and he tries to remind himself to turn the air conditioning off later, when Louis hasn’t cupped a hand around the back of his neck and slid his tongue past his parted lips. No matter how many times they’ve kissed since they got back together Harry thinks it’s never going to be enough for him, to make up for the years without him.

 

Louis rests their foreheads together afterwards, laughs breathlessly, and kisses Harry lightly once more before pulling away and gulping in some air. Harry looks far too smug and reaches for the previously discarded cigarettes.

 

“America was always good for us,” Louis says and Harry blows smoke out of the window.

 

“It was”

 

 

 

“Do you think we’d have got back together if Liam hadn’t got married?” Louis asks. It’s far too hot and they’re lying tangled together for no reason other than the sunbed is slightly too small for them both but Louis had curled himself against his side anyway. Harry lifts his shirt up to fan himself with and Louis wonders why he doesn’t just disregard it altogether, he wouldn’t complain. Louis likes romance, he devoured romantic films when he was younger, but he'd never really thought about love in the way films always made it out until he met Harry. He’s not sure how they fell so completely and utterly in love so quickly and it scared him sometimes with the voraciousness of it, but he wouldn’t have had it any other way.

 

“I think so” Harry says carefully, “I don’t think we went to the same concert for no reason” it all comes back to that in the end, to the fact things seemed to be forcing them together even when they didn’t know each other. Louis doesn’t believe in destiny or soul mates or anything like that, things it’s reserved for hopeless romantics and people sad enough to believe love conquers all or something equally as cheesy but maybe he can make an exception when it comes to Harry.

 

“I like to think we’d have bumped into each other backstage at some awards show or in Tesco where we’d both be reaching for the same ready meal or something”

 

“A chicken wrapped in Parma ham?”

 

“Yeah, knowing us it would have been!” Louis laughs and Harry loves the sound, loves everything about having Louis pressed close against him even though their skin in sticky and it’s so hot it’s oppressive and the sun is far too bright. A year ago he couldn’t have imagined being here, somewhere in America, with Louis. Maybe the universe is strange sometimes and maybe Harry was always destined to leave Louis and find him so they could fall in love all over again like they’re 16 and 18 again and everything is bright and new and they’ve got it all to come. His throat feels odd and Harry sits up carefully so as not to push Louis off the edge so he can kiss Louis. Louis rests his hand lightly on Harry’s skin and Harry doesn’t move him off even though his hand feels like fire.

 

“I’m glad Liam got married though”

 

“Yeah, me too”

 

 

 

Later, when they’re in bed sleepy and unsure where they stop being themselves and just becomes each other, Harry leans over, “I love you Lou” Louis is half asleep but he flicks his eyes up to Harry and the sides crinkle as he smiles.

 

“I love you too” and maybe being grossly in love again is okay, it works for them at least.

 

 

 

 

They haven’t done much for days and Louis pads downstairs past midday and make himself a cup of tea before searching for Harry. He finds him outside

Louis rests his hand on Harry’s cute little tummy and frowns when Harry wriggles away.

 

“Please don’t”

 

“What’s up?”

 

“Nothing, just . . .”

 

“Just what?”

 

“Nothing”

 

“Harry this isn’t nothing, clearly” Harry sighs and sits up, doesn’t look at Louis and Louis rests his hand on Harry’s.

 

“Remember when you used to be insecure about your body, and then you started going to the gym more and things were fine?” Louis nods. It was a few months of the tour when they were eating shitty food all the time and he wasn’t as comfortable as he’d waned to be about himself. “Well, I . . .”

 

“ _Harry_ ”

 

“Look it’s silly I know, can we move on now?”

 

“No because this is something we should talk about . . .”

 

“Like we should talk about how you don’t think you’re a good singer?” Harry asks and Louis frowns

 

“Okay, let’s not”

 

“Thanks” Harry lies back down and pulls Louis against him and they’re not perfect, not by a long shot, but they never were and that’s okay.

 

 

 

It’s a week after their promo ended and Louis said they should stay out here a bit and Harry agreed only because he was too hot to be bothered with Louis’ begging. They’re drunk in a club somewhere and maybe Harry should have been paying more attention to the signs and less attention to Louis when he told him to take a left and just go wherever it led. They’re being a bit reckless to make up for all the times when they couldn’t, reckless in a carefully constructed way because that’s all they’ve ever known and it’s going to take a bit of time for them to get over that because it was such a large part of their lives for so long. Louis spins around in the small square of space they’ve got on the dance floor and he smiles and in the weird lighting he looks strange, shadows and angles, and Harry rests a hand on his waist to steady himself.

 

“You okay?” Louis practically shouts in his ear, has to because of the music. Harry winces and nods at him, it’s too warm, people pressed close but he's never felt better. Doesn’t want to be anywhere else than here with Louis because they can do this sort of stuff now, don’t have to worry about being seen, about being hidden, about trying to be something they’re not.

 

The thing is, at the heart of everything, is a friendship between two people who go from strangers to something overwhelming so quickly because they’re thrust into something so strange and utterly incredible and equally as terrifying. Beneath all the times they’ve said they love each other they started everything as best friends and perhaps that’s always meant more than anything romantic ever could. Because a friendship like theirs, formed so fast and so completely boundless, is so much more powerful than any empty I love you can ever be. When Harry left the band Louis wasn’t just losing Harry as his boyfriend, as someone he might have married someday, he was losing Harry as the friend he stayed up all night talking with at the beginning, as a friend who he held onto so ferociously because Harry was going through it all to, Harry understood better than anyone else could, better than all his friends back home, more then his mum could. And Harry is just so happy to be back here, with Louis’ hand pressed against him, knowing that they’re fixing things and even if they’re not quite there yet they will be because this is about more than romance or sex, it’s about a relationship that was formed in the early hours of the morning when they’re lying in the same bed away from home with everything they’re dreamed about right there for them to take and even if they’re not ready for it they’ve got each other.

 

 

Harry’s started to realise that he’s an emotional drunk and that maybe he shouldn’t be thinking about stuff like this when some girl is making out with another girl to their right and some guy has his hand up some girl’s skirt behind Louis and the music is loud and someone split their drink on his arm an hour or so ago and Louis peers at him curiously when he notices him crying a little. Louis takes his hand firmly and guides him outside, thinks the air will sober him up a bit. They go to the smoking area and Louis leans Harry against the wall and stands in front of him, pushes his hair back.

 

“What’s up?” he asks firmly, Harry just laughs a little and shakes his head

 

“Fucking hell, nothing, everything”

 

“Why do you always get so deep when you’re drunk? It’s not cute, it’s infuriating because you never make any sense. I should make it into a book, make a fortune”

 

“Go for it, you’re terrible with money, you need something to fall back on”

 

“Hey, we’re talking about why you’re crying”

 

“It’s just, I’m glad we managed to sort things out, I guess I’d tried to kid myself into thinking that I didn’t need you anymore, not like I used to anyway, which is all shit” Louis looks at Harry is disbelief before letting out a bark of laughter, it sounds loud even though Harry’s ears of ringing.

 

“Oh my fucking . . .” he shakes his head, “ _Harry_ ” maybe Louis is drunk as well, just a little. He crashes his lips against Harry’s because he loves Harry and they’ve never been anything other than a mess of a relationship that keeps trying and fighting despite everything and it’s all worth it for the feel of Harry’s lips against his at some tacky club somewhere in America where they can finally be who they’ve always wanted to be.

 

“You’re such a fucking dork, I hate you”

 

“I love you too”

 

 

 

 

**January**

 

“Happy 2021” Louis says softly leaning in to kiss Harry. Harry rests his hand on Louis waist, takes in the feel of his lips against his, the way his hands are still cold from going outside to smoke.

 

“We made it” Harry’s words are slightly slurred and someone’s spilt a drink down the side of his shirt and Louis loves him so much.

 

“I’m so glad” he says pulling Harry against him again, “I’m going to be cheesy as fuck for a second and it doesn’t matter okay?” Harry nods, curls brushing against Louis’ skin, “I’m so fucking glad Liam decided to get married this year and that we got talking and that we decided to try again because honestly Harry nothing felt right without you. I mean, I hated you so much for so long except I never really did and the only thing I hated was that you weren’t there, that we weren’t us anymore. I fucking love you yeah?” he pulls back to look at Harry. Harry just leans in to kiss him again because he can’t think straight and maybe he’s just an emotional drunk but he's just so glad to have Louis back, to be able to wake up tomorrow next to him and the day after and for things to be getting back to how they used to be.

 

“I love you too” he says when the music has started back up and someone crashes down next to them on the sofa with some girl on their lap.

 

 

**February**

 

Harry wakes up to Louis pushing him gently. He groans and Louis laughs. He likes the sound and guesses there are worse ways to wake up, even if it is his birthday and he should at least get to lie in then.

 

“Happy birthday baby” Louis says, attacking his face with kisses.

 

“ _Lou_ ”

 

“What?” Louis giggles and Harry shakes his head, pulls Louis back down against him. Louis kisses him again, except slower, gets a hand in his hair. There are definitely worse ways to wake up, without Louis here for example.

Louis smirks when he hands over his present and Harry is a little nervous.

 

“What the fuck did you get me?” he hasn’t forgotten the time they were trying to be more adventurous and Louis got him some bunny ears and a tail and far from being hot it ended up with them in fits of giggles on the bed and the mood ruined. They’re stored under the bed now along with their other failed adventures.

 

“You’ll have to open it won’t you?” Harry peels the paper apart carefully because Louis has tried hard to make it look pretty. “Come on” Louis whines

 

“You’re so impatient” Harry opens the box, looks inside and snorts and Louis falls back against the pillow laughing.

 

“I found it ages ago”

 

“The actual . . .”

 

“No, a replacement”

 

“Oh, still . . . “ it’s a replacement flower vibrator. “We should try it out”

Louis keeps Harry on edge until he’s babbling nonsense and he pulls the toy out and only has to fuck into him a few times before he comes. They lie pressed close afterwards until their breathing evens back out and Louis sits up to look down at Harry, pushes his hair back.

 

“Fucking hell”

 

“That was something,” Louis says with a smile, “Happy birthday baby”

 

 

 

It’s his first birthday where they’re a couple and the picture opportunities are endless.

 

“What should I post?” Harry asks. He's long ago given up on his Instagram aesthetic and just posts the occasional thing with a random caption.

 

“Me?”

 

“Of course you love, but doing what?”

 

“You’re pretty stressed about this” Louis comments, handing Harry his coffee.

 

“It’s a big deal, it’s our first occasion together publicly, people are expecting something special”

 

“I really don’t think they’ll mind too much, anything will destroy them emotionally”

 

“I’ve seen some of the edits they make though, they’re better than anything I can think of . . .” Louis has to smile fondly, he goes around the table and perches on the side, rests his feet on either side of Harry’s chair.

 

“Stop stressing,” he says slowly, “We’ll think of something, but for now are you going to make breakfast or do you want to go out?”

 

“Out, definitely”

 

“Drink your coffee then go get ready”

 

“I forgot how bossy you were”

 

“You don’t complain . . .”

 

“I don’t have chance to complain . . .”

 

“Fuck off” Louis

 

 

 

 

Zayn comes over later with far more gifts than he needed to and Harry is a little overwhelmed and hugs Zayn close.

 

“You’re welcome in advance” Zayn says, “So, are we drinking now or waiting a bit?”

 

“Now!” Louis calls from the kitchen and Harry winces when he hears Louis knock something over. “Um, okay in a little bit. I may need some help with the cleaning!”

 

 

 

“Do you remember?” Zayn slurs, lurching forwards with his laughter and Harry steadies him with a hand to his arm, “Do you remember the time Harry got sunburn on his butt and couldn’t sit down for _days_?”

 

“Oh my fucking . . .” Louis laughs

 

“Did you just say butt?” Harry says and Zayn wipes his eyes

 

“Not as funny as the time Harry . . .”

 

“Is this national laugh at everything embarrassing Harry’s ever done day?” Harry asks with a huff and Louis pulls him against his chest and kisses his head a little sloppily

 

“Of course not baby, that title’s a bit too long”

 

“Too long” Zayn giggles and Harry plucks Zayn’s wine glass out of his hand and takes a large gulp, he’ll need it.

 

“Zayn, are you 12?”

 

“At heart” Zayn says with a hand against his chest, “Age is but a number . . .” he dissolves into giggles again. How he and Louis have managed to get so drunk so fast is beyond Harry and he hands Zayn his now empty glass back.

 

“You dick!”

 

“Don’t call my boyfriend a dick” Louis chastises, arms coming to wrap around Harry’s middle protectively, “That’s my job”

 

“No it’s your job to suck it” Zayn says and he and Louis both laugh and Harry thinks it’s far easier to just give into their childishness, plus he thinks that wine went straight to his head

 

“Louis is A+ at cock sucking I’ll have you know”

 

“Aw thanks love” Louis pulls Harry towards him and Harry leans up to kiss him. It’s nothing Zayn hasn’t seen before but he makes noises of discontent anyway and they all know he doesn’t really mean it.

 

 

 

Harry goes downstairs the next morning with bleary eyes and his head pounding. He pauses in the hallway when he can hear Louis and Zayn laughing and smiles to himself. He's such as terrible sap but he’s happy for them, so happy that things seem to be working out for all of them.

 

 

 

Maybe they never have the reunion tour but they’re okay with that. Liam calls them sometimes although they’re still working things through with Niall, they’ll get there though, maybe. And they’re okay with that. Harry knows things aren’t so easy to fix.

 

 

**2023**

It all started with a wedding and Harry thinks it’s only fitting that it ends that way. He’s considered some extravagant way of asking Louis, a romantic trip away, hiding the ring on a breadstick, the usual cliché things before deciding he just wants something simple. There’s nothing more simple than him padding downstairs in one of Louis’ old sweatshirts to find Louis on the sofa with a cup of tea and it’s so, so perfect, so them.

 

“Morning” Louis says not looking up from where he's watching some football match.

 

“Who’s playing?” Harry asks, sliding onto the sofa next to him and leaning over to kiss him.

 

“United” Louis answers, “Really shit this season so far, getting thrashed by Crystal Palace, 3-0”

 

“Wow”

 

“Your enthusiasm is catching” Louis says, finally tearing his eyes away to look down at Harry.

 

“I try” Harry says and maybe his fingers shake a little when he reaches into the pocket of his jumper and Louis frowns until he doesn’t.

 

“I . . .” Harry just hands over the box, not sure why he's so tongue tied and nervous.

 

“ _Harry_ ” Louis opens it, “Fucking hell” he laughs a little, runs a hand through his hair before pulling Harry against him.

 

“You didn’t answer the question!” Harry says when he pulls back

 

“You didn’t ask!”

 

“Oh” Louis shakes his head because this is all such a mess and not really romantic at all and he loves Harry so, so much. “I’ll ask now then”

 

“Go for it” Louis sits more comfortably and Harry takes the ring off him.

 

“Lou, this all started because Liam was lucky enough to find someone he wanted to marry and I think we deserve that kind of happiness, so will you marry me?”

 

“I suppose” Louis says, “I’m kidding, fucking hell this is the most unromantic thing we’ve ever done, yes” Harry beams

 

“Wow”

 

“Do you feel any different?”

 

“Less nervous”

 

“You were nervous?”

 

“A little”

 

“Baby, why?” Louis asks and pushes Harry back against the sofa, climbs into the lap and kisses him again.

 

“We can make up for the lack of romance sometime” Harry says

 

“You can go out and buy some roses and we can put them on the bed the way they do in movies and I can fuck you if you want?”

 

“Hmm, yeah, sounds great”

 

“Get up, go on, go to the shops then”

 

 

 

 

“Louis, don’t get sappy on me, tell me honestly if you like this one” they’re suit shopping and Harry has never experienced anything so stressful.

 

“I’m not getting sappy!” Harry gives him a look, “Okay, maybe a little but . . .”

 

“Okay, on a scale of one to ten how does this make by arse look” Louis snorts

 

“Love, we’re getting married, you don’t need to impress me”

 

“What if I want to impress everyone else?”

 

“Why would they be looking at your arse? I mean, it’s great but . . .”

 

“Is that a three?”

 

“A six maybe”

 

“Okay, I’ll try something else then”

 

 

 

 

Even when they’re not talking about the wedding they’re talking about the wedding because Louis knows Harry’s looking at wedding venues online when he frowns and then smiles to himself and he goes over and says his opinion. They go to so many places it’s probably excessive but this just means so much to them, that they’re actually, finally going to get married, that it has to be so, so perfect. At heart they know none of this matters, that getting married is enough, but they’re a little vain sometimes and they want to have a day to remember.

 

“As long as there’s no horses I’m all good” Louis says as they drive up to some country house Harry found online, “You know what happened the last time” Harry shudders

 

“Let’s not talk about it” Louis is serious when the woman shows them around and Harry takes some pictures to compare to the other hundred pictures he’s taken at various other places and Louis isn’t sure how they’re going to make a decision at all. Only he finds when they’re walking round and the lady’s showing them the potential picture locations and the reception room he gets a fuzzy feeling in his chest which he hasn’t had before and he only hopes Harry feels it too.

 

 

“What did you think?” Louis asks when they’re back in the car and his voice sounds hopeful even to his own ears. Harry smiles.

 

“Pretty perfect don’t you think?”

 

 

 

“How do people even pick a song for their first dance?” Harry asks with a huff, pausing a three hour-long playlist of wedding songs he found on YouTube. Louis leans over and kisses him.

 

“No idea, maybe we should just stick with the Birdie song?”

 

“At this point I’m warming to it” Harry says and sets his laptop aside so Louis can settle against his side. Louis is quiet for a bit and Harry wonders if he can have a quick nap since he’s been stressed out for a while now thinking endlessly about weddings.

 

“Oh . . .” Louis says sitting up so suddenly that his head crashes into Harry’s chin and they both yelp

 

“Fuck”

 

“Shit”

 

“Your fault” Harry says rubbing his face and Louis kisses his cheek

 

“All better?”

 

“Maybe” Louis kisses him again

 

“Now?”

 

“Hmm” Louis knows if he doesn’t stop they’ll end up being distracted and as much as he loves kissing Harry there are other matters of major importance.

 

“You’ll live” Louis says and sits on the edge of the sofa, “I remembered something else we haven’t sorted out this morning”

 

“Oh?” Harry frowns since they’ve made many extensive lists and he was so sure they’d got everything.

 

“We have no idea what our first dance is actually going to be like”

 

“In what way?”

 

“Well, are we doing a movie scene dance reenactment?”

 

“No, I don’t think so” Harry says, “I mean unless you want to?”

 

“Not particularly”

 

“So the classic then? Gross and loved up?”

 

“Much more our style don’t you think?”

 

“Definitely” Harry says with a yawn and Louis could let Harry take a nap while he watches TV or something but he didn’t spent all day choosing a song for nothing.

 

“I found one by the way”

 

“A what?”

 

“A song for us”

 

“Oh?” Harry frowns because it would have been nice/polite of Louis to tell him this _before_ he had to sit through the hundred or so songs on the playlist (except Harry liked it really).

 

“Yeah” Louis picks up Harry’s discarded laptop and types his password which hasn’t changed. Louis stands up and offers Harry his hand and Harry looks a little confused and Louis puts it down to him being sleepy because it’s very obvious what they’re about to do.

 

“We should probably practise” he clarifies

 

“Oh, good idea” Louis shakes his head and ruffles Harry’s hair amidst protest

 

“We should also probably make this a little more romantic” he goes to turn the light off and it’s not quite dark outside yet and Louis takes hold of Harry’s hand and moves them out of the way of the coffee table because he doesn’t want them to get hurt.

 

 

It takes some time and they have to check a YouTube video on how to dance properly and they giggle over how it’s not very romantic at all and they get distracted when a video at the side claims to show two dogs getting married and Louis pleads to Harry about getting dogs for their wedding. He has a solid argument with _look at their tiny bouquets and bow ties, fucking adorable right?_

 

“They’re cute” Harry admits, “But I’ll look cuter, you’ll just have to be content with me”

 

“Hm, I can deal with that” the prospect of getting married has definitely made them even more grossly in love and Louis would roll his eyes at himself if he didn’t love Harry so much it hurt sometimes.

 

 

 

 

It’s two years since Harry saw Liam get married and now he’s getting married to Louis and he can’t see by the time it’s over and Louis wipes away his tears gently and kisses him probably a little inappropriately and neither of them care too much.

 

 

 

 

They’re outside smoking when Zayn finds them for the first time all evening. They probably invited too many people and it’s been an endless stream of congratulations and thank yous and I always knew you would get back together and Harry’s face hurts from smiling and he’s glad to be alone with Louis momentarily.

 

“Hey” Harry turns and would be annoyed if it was anyone but Zayn.

 

“Hi, please don’t make me say thank you again”

 

“Won’t do” Zayn says, sitting down on the seat next to them, pulling out his packet of cigarettes. Louis offers him his lighter. It’s all very déjà vu and Harry loops his arm through Louis’, leans against his side.

 

“So, married eh?”

 

“Only you and Niall left now, what do you think?” Louis says, raising his eyebrows.

 

“Maybe, although I reckon there would be too much sports talk for me”

 

“There might be some great threesomes though, fancy having Niall and Andy Murray at the same time?”

 

“Interesting” Zayn says with a laugh, “I’ll go find him afterwards” Louis smiles and they fall into an easy silence. Harry laces his fingers with Louis and Zayn finishes his cigarette.

 

“I’m really happy for you guys though, you deserve this” Zayn looks across at them and smiles.

 

“Thanks” Louis says before rolling his eyes, “Here we go again”

 

“I’ll get back then, go chat to Niall” Zayn finishes the dregs of his drink and gets up.

 

“I’m glad I’ve sorted things out with Zayn” Louis says when he’s gone, “And the others obviously, but Zayn . . .”

 

“I get it”

 

“It’s nice” Louis says because it is.

 

 

 

Harry wakes up the next morning his head pounding but happy, happily married, and when he sits up carefully and looks down to see Louis still asleep he’s almost a little overwhelmed.

 

“We need to stop going to weddings,” Harry says over breakfast when, once again, Louis is eating and he isn’t. “I always feel absolutely shit”

 

“This is becoming a bit too much of a routine” Louis says as Harry gets up to make another coffee. “So, where should we go on the honeymoon?” Harry fills the kettle and spoons coffee into his mug.

 

“I suppose we should have organised something shouldn’t we?”

 

“We can organise something now”

 

“Sure, where do you fancy? Disney?” Harry says hopefully

 

“I am not telling people we queued hours to meet Anna and Elsa as our honeymoon”

 

“You won’t need to” Louis raises an eyebrow, “We can get fast passes”

 

“I . . .” Louis shakes his head and smiles fondly. “No”

 

“Some other time though?”

 

“Sure, for your birthday”

 

 

 

**2024**

 

“When did I get so old?” Harry asks, staring at himself on the camera on his phone.

 

“You’re the youngest out of us all” Zayn says with a huff

 

“I’ve got at least three wrinkles”

 

“Fuck off” Zayn says leaning over to check and okay maybe he has.

 

“See!”

 

“I mean . . .”

 

“Fucking hell” Zayn snatches his phone away

 

“Louis doesn’t seem to care”

 

“Louis doesn’t seem to care about what?” Louis asks, plonking himself down between the two on the sofa, a few stray pieces of popcorn escaping the bowl.

 

“That Harry got old”

 

“Thanks Zayn”

 

“You said it yourself”

 

“You weren’t supposed to agree!” Harry whines and leans against Louis, “Lou, count my wrinkles”

 

“No because if you have one then I have three and I don’t want to feel shitty as well”

 

“We could feel shitty together?”

 

“Or, none of us could feel shitty and we can embrace getting old” Zayn points out,

“You always found dads hot Harry, back in the day” Louis snorts and shoves a handful of popcorn into his mouth

 

“I’m not a dad, _yet_ ” Louis says with a pointed look at Zayn.

 

“ _Yet_!?” Zayn practically yelps and Harry and Louis exchange a smug look,

 

“Fucking hell guys . . .”

 

“I suppose we should tell you something,” Louis says

 

 

**2030**

It’s coming up for their 5 year anniversary and Harry makes a point of trying to remember to organise some childcare so they can do something special.

 

“Harry?”

 

“Yeah” Harry looks up to see Louis standing in the doorway, his jumper covered in flour, “Oh, what happened here?” Harry smiles a little at Louis’ disgruntled expression.

 

“Don’t fucking laugh” Louis grumbles, “Seth wanted to bake didn’t he? Can tell he’s been raised by you, and of course it was a bit of a disaster”

 

“Why didn’t you ask me to help?”

 

“You were busy” Harry’s been writing some new songs and even if they don’t amount to anything it’s nice to have them written, ready if he ever wants to use them.

 

“I’ll un-busy myself”

 

“Sounds like a good idea” Louis says and Harry gets up and goes over to kiss away his frown. “Come on, I left them alone downstairs”

 

“Never a good idea” Harry says taking his hand and leading the way, “Alright, what’s going on in here?” he asks surveying the kitchen. Seth and Millie are sat at and on the table respectively, both covered in icing sugar.

 

“Decorating daddy!” Millie says holding up a cake which actually looks good, Harry’s not sure where her artistic ability came from.

 

“Hey, I’m decorating too!” Seth says practically shoving his cake in Harry’s face.

 

“I can look at both of them Seth, don’t worry”

 

“But mine’s good right?”

 

“It’s very good”

 

“ _Yes_!”

 

“So, who’s going to help me tidy up afterwards then?” he asks and the kids look horrified

 

“My teacher gave me some maths homework . . .” Millie starts

 

“We did that remember” Louis says

 

“I got some more”

 

“Where from?”

 

“She sent it via a flying cat, it was in my bedroom last night”

 

“Was it now? Sounds a little scary”

 

“I’m never scared” Millie says, “Plus cats aren’t exactly scary”

 

“That told you” Harry says to Louis with a smirk.

 

 

 

 

Later when they’re all in the living room together and Louis has just stopped Seth eating his third cake and told him to go choose something to play with instead Harry is a little overwhelmed by family life. He wasn’t sure how things would turn out when he left the band but he’s sure he never expected it to end up with he and Louis married with kids, it seems too perfect.

 

“You okay?” Louis asks, sitting next to him on the sofa

 

“Yeah, couldn’t be happier”

 

“Don’t get sappy on me now, we’ve still got bath and bedtime to do first”

 

“We’ll be fine, at least Seth’s stopped trying to snorkel now”

 

“Only because I hid his snorkel”

 

“Where did you put it?”

 

“In the random crap draw” Louis says quietly

 

“What else is in there?”

 

“I’m not sure you want to know” Louis says and Harry can’t help but kiss him quickly before the kids notice.

 

“Dad, please, do you have to?” Seth pipes up and they collapse into a fit of giggles

 

“One day Seth, when you’re older, you’ll understand”

 

“I don’t think so, I’m not interested in love”

 

“You’re only seven so I think that’s normal, anyway, come on, show me what you’ve drawn . . .”

 

It’s 9pm when the kids are in bed and they’re downstairs with the TV on low and it’s been over a decade since he left One Direction with no idea about what he was going to do and he never thought it would end with things as good as they are.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


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